


The Hangman's Hands

by Mercurie



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Brothers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Gen, Identity Issues, Jötunheimr | Jotunheim, Loki Angst, Loki Lies, Loki Redemption, Love Triangles, Magic and Science, Minor Character Death, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Novel, POV Multiple, Personal Growth, Plot Twists, Prophecy, Ragnarok, Realm Hopping, Redemption, Sexual Content, Suspense, Teamwork, Torture, Uneasy Allies, Worldbuilding, Ásgarðr | Asgard (realm)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-18
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-05 14:08:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 32
Words: 160,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mercurie/pseuds/Mercurie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor and Loki never make it back to Asgard. Now S.H.I.E.L.D. is stuck with the world's most hated war criminal on their hands and everyone wants a piece - unless they can find a way to get rid of him for good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Up in the Air

**Author's Note:**

> "The purer the victims' guilt, the dirtier the hangman's hands." - Stanislaw Jerzy Lec

It had been a long flight from Oslo and Fury wasn't making her day any better.

"Six _weeks_?" Jane said, barely keeping her voice below a shout. "Six weeks he's been back? And no one bothered to tell me?" 

"Your relationship with Thor makes you a prime target for Loki, Dr. Foster," Nick Fury said. The panoramic window behind him offered a stark view of New York's shattered skyline - Loki's handiwork, that. "We thought it wiser to keep you out of his sights."

"That's no reason you couldn't pick up a phone!"

"And have you come running out here?"

"I wouldn't - " Fury's raised eyebrow cut her off. 

All right, maybe she would have. But _still_. S.H.I.E.L.D. and their damn high-handedness.

"I suppose that Tromsø position was set up by S.H.I.E.L.D., too?" she sniped.

Fury nodded as if that was perfectly acceptable. "At Thor's request. Not that you wouldn't have merited it anyway, doctor."

She'd never met anyone so adept at politely twisting the knife. She wondered if Thor had even thought about calling her, coming to see her... A vision of laughing eyes, full of promise, flashed through her mind. He must have, she told herself. Earth had been under attack; she could hardly blame him for prioritizing the safety of the human race. The ruined buildings outside drew her gaze again and an involuntary shiver crawled down her spine. Loki must be something truly terrifying.

"I want to see Thor," she said firmly.

"As soon as we're done here."

She meant to insist, _now_ , but he barreled on.

"We've got work for you, Dr. Foster."

"You can't be _serious_ \- " After how he'd just admitted to manipulating her?

"- Work that no one else can do. You're the world expert on interplanetary travel at the moment. Our _only_ expert."

She didn't miss the possessive. 

"You can't just call me in and send me away whenever you feel like it! Not to mention stealing all my research and equipment and - "

" _Dr. Foster_." Fury placed his hands on the table between them and leaned down towards her. "We are in the firing line here. And by we, I don't mean S.H.I.E.L.D. - I mean humanity. I mean every poor sucker on this planet. We've been passed a live grenade and it's about to blow up in our collective face. So unless you want to sit back and let that happen, yeah, we're calling you in."

Her mouth was still open in mid-speech. Fury was tense as a wire; she could see his shoulders trembling with suppressed energy. Behind them, in the distance, a crane turned slowly, starting work on a partially collapsed skyscraper. This guy was even better at guilt trips than Erik. She'd bet money that this wasn't even his real office. It just had the appropriate view.

"What is it you need me to do?" she said, anger deflating a little.

He relaxed the slightest bit. "We need a way to travel between worlds that doesn't rely on the Bifrost. And we need it immediately."

" _What_?" Jane sputtered. "I haven't even figured out the one Einstein-Rosen bridge we know exists yet and now you want me to start building one from scratch? The Bifrost probably took years or decades to build, maybe centuries, and we don't have anywhere near the kind of energy it would take. Not to mention the computing power for the calculations and the materials, what is it even made of, how do we stabilize it, and and and!" She threw her hands up.

"We don't need a bridge. We just need transport - to Asgard. Any kind. A portal, a wormhole, hell, I'll take a spaceship at this point."

"I don't even know if it's possible," she said, mind racing. A way to travel between worlds without using an Einstein-Rosen bridge?

"Oh, it's possible. Someone's done it and," Fury cracked a grim half-smile, "we just so happen to have him in our custody."

There was really only one person that could be. One person who could make the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. pull that face. Cold dread suddenly made her palms feel clammy. But at the same time, the old familiar excitement began to tingle. Access to the knowledge of a fantastically advanced civilization - from a real expert, no less - entirely new fields of physics, the opportunity to create Earth's own pathway to the stars, not dependent on anyone else - 

"Wow," she said. "Feels like I've just been asked to cure cancer by working with... Dr. Mengele or something."

Fury barked a rueful laugh. "Tell me about it." His smile was tired this time. "This is our highest priority project. You'll have all S.H.I.E.L.D.'s resources at your disposal - labs, funding, staff, more coffee machines than you can shake a stick at. Access to everything we know about Asgardian tech. The highest security clearance. And a direct line to me if you need anything else."

And just like that, they'd reeled her back in.

***

Twenty minutes later, someone finally came to escort her to Thor. It took six hours, several forms in triplicate, and a helicopter journey. By the time she and Agent Hill jumped down out of the helicopter onto a huge flying fortress somewhere over the North Atlantic, she was exhausted. And slightly more sympathetic to Thor's failure to visit her - maybe he hadn't wanted to face S.H.I.E.L.D.'s bureaucratic wrath.

She kept one hand over the small oxygen mask Agent Hill had given her as the wind blew her hair in wild contortions. This place was _huge_. She could've parachuted out of the plane from Norway onto this platform, easy. S.H.I.E.L.D. had some incredible firepower. Even in the starlight, though, she could see that the surface of the helicarrier had been burned and scored with deep gouges. A crash, maybe. Fury had been unspecific about the details of what had happened here, but she was willing to bet Loki was responsible for that bit of destruction, too.

Loki. Who was somewhere beneath her feet in the depths of this floating skyscraper.

Getting inside was a relief; Jane hadn't realized how cold she was until she stepped into the warm, brightly lit interior. Agent Hill conferred with someone on an earpiece before turning to her.

"We've assigned you a room near the labs and the subject." Hill said the last two words as if they came with capital letters. The Subject. It would make a decent title for a horror film. "Are you afraid of heights?"

"Not especially," Jane said. 

"Good. I'll take you below, I'm sure you must be tired."

Jane stopped her. "I want to see Thor. Right now."

Hill gave her an unreadable look, then nodded as if it had nothing to do with her.

There followed another trip that felt like it took forever. Jane was going to have to get a map of this place and learn her way around, otherwise she was sure she'd get lost among the endless metal corridors and indistinguishable silently sealing doors. Every once in a while, they would pass more signs of violent struggle: walls that had been torn open, broken catwalks, areas that had been sealed off with makeshift barriers and red tape. It looked like an army had been through here.

Finally, they came to a curved double doorway. Agent Hill gave Jane an access code and programmed the retinal scanner and fingerprint sensor to admit her. When the door opened, Hill leaned against the corridor wall outside, making no move to enter.

A few steps took Jane inside, the door closing automatically behind her. The room was circular, lined around the edges with equipment and controls. There was no hint of destruction here: everything was gleaming, bright-edged, professional and sharp. It might not be the bridge, but she had the feeling this was the real heart of the carrier. The part people had expended the most effort on.

A round glass cell at the center of the room dominated the space. There was nothing inside except a white bench along one side and a table and chair in the middle, with a person sitting slumped over them like a schoolboy who had fallen asleep at his desk. A schoolboy in armor and a tattered green cape. He was seated with his back to the door, so she couldn't see his face; but he had ragged black hair, and in his hand was Mjolnir. 

_Not Thor._ She stiffened as if a jolt of electricity had shot through her spine. Was this S.H.I.E.L.D.'s idea of a joke or had something happened - something happened to - ?

On the opposite side of the room, someone who had been sitting with his back against the wall stood up. It had been months since she'd seen him, but there was no mistaking the bright hair, the easy, arrogant grace, the smile full of goodwill and good humor. 

She ran to meet him and his arms closed around her in a fierce embrace.

"Jane!" Thor said, low in her ear. " _Jane._ Oh Jane, Jane, I have dreamed of seeing you again."

"Me too," she whispered. He took a deep, shuddering breath, as if he was trying to breathe her in. He sounded, felt, looked exactly like she remembered. The tiny, cruel part of her that had whispered doubts melted away at last. He was here, he was real, she hadn't imagined any of it. The warmth in his eyes, the longing in his voice - just like the memories she had clung to, conjuring images of him every night so she wouldn't forget a single moment of those three brief, exhilarating days. 

"I missed you so much," she said into his t-shirt. "I was afraid you'd never come back." It felt all right to say it, now that she knew it wasn't true.

She felt him frown a protest against her cheek and pulled back a little to look up at his face. There was a long yellow bruise on his left cheek and temple, and a deep, half-healed cut across his forehead. She gasped a little, reaching out before she could stop herself, but Thor didn't flinch.

"Did he do that?" she asked.

"No," Thor shook his head. "I fell halfway from Asgard, Jane. Both of us. Father must not have had the dark energy necessary to conjure us _and_ the Tesseract. Even now, I am not entirely sure how we survived." His eyes drifted, suddenly murky and thoughtful, to the figure in the cell, and his frown deepened, emphasizing the angry gash across his brows. She didn't want to think of how he must have looked weeks ago, after the fall.

Jane ventured an apprehensive look at the prisoner, but Loki didn't appear to have moved at all since she'd entered the room. His forehead rested on the table, hands flat on either side. His shoulders rose and fell with slow breaths. Now that she had a second look, she saw that he wasn't holding Mjolnir after all. The hammer lay with its long side on top of his left hand, the skin visibly bruised even at this distance. As she watched, the fingers twitched.

She turned back to Thor. "Can he hear us?" she mouthed.

He shook his head. "They soundproofed the new cell. He says nothing anyway, and never looks at me. You would think _I_ was the one who..." The sentence trailed off into a mutter, as if losing heart in the face of the thundercloud on his brow.

"Why is Mjolnir in there with - him?"

"An unfortunate necessity," Thor said. His hand caressed her cheek as easily as if they'd never been apart and he smiled down at her, mood lightening a little. "Loki cannot shift Mjolnir," - he sounded more than a little smug - "not so much as an inch from his own hand. So its weight confines him. It also dampens some of his power, though not all. And if he somehow escapes that, the cell is meant to fall leagues down into ice and ocean if he breaches its wall. Even so, he's not without power, and I fear it is only a matter of weeks or days before he..." 

"Slithers his way out of there?" Jane suggested. 

"My brother is devilish cunning," Thor admitted. "I know Mjolnir will never obey him, but I mislike leaving it there, alone with him." 

And out of Thor's own hands, Jane thought. She was pretty sure she misliked that, too. The sooner they got Loki back to Asgard, the better. 

That was where she came in. It was her job to get the two of them home - since she'd been working on finding a way to Asgard for months. Fate sure had a mean sense of humor. 

"Well," she said, through the sudden lump in her throat, "Mjolnir won't be with him much longer. Once we figure out a way to send you two back, you can turn him over to Odin and be done with it." 

Thor saw through her pretense at stoicism instantly. "Doors have two faces, dear Jane," he said, smiling. "I will not leave you again, I swear it." He smoothed her wind-blown hair out of her eyes.

It wasn't that she didn't believe him. She knew he meant it. But he'd meant it last time, too. No matter; she let him wrap her in his arms and hugged back with all her mortal strength. His heart beat against her cheek and she closed her eyes, listening to the great quiet life thrum through him. 

When she opened them, Loki was staring poison at her. His narrow gaze glittered, the force of his gaze striking her like a slap. Dear God, he hated her, she realized with horror. _Hated_ her. She went rigid with fear, a mouse face-to-face with a snake. She'd hardly expected friendliness, but that _look_. It froze the breath in her lungs.

"What?" Thor said, alarmed. "What, Jane..." And fell silent. After a moment, he said, "Pay him no heed, Jane. He is beaten and bitter. Loki has never been one to accept defeat with grace. That is all."

"I know," she said, tearing her eyes away. "I know. But I'm going to have to talk to... that."

Thor made a sound like a growl. "Let us leave this dungeon. I've spent too many hours here already, brooding over him. And you - I wish you had never had to meet him." One hand glided down her back possessively as he stared over her head at the cell. "I would well like some hours alone in your company, Jane."

She smiled, shakily. "Agent Hill said I have a room, so..."

"Yes!" Thor gave a small laugh. "The view is something marvelous, I'll say that for it." He looked down at her and his smile came back, tinged with mischief. He inclined his head slightly and lifted her hand with impressive gravitas, kissing it with a whisper of lips. The look he sent her through lowered lashes would have made her weak at the knees under normal circumstances. If she couldn't still feel Loki's stare glued to them like some kind of slimy leech.

"Let's go," she said. 

Thor nodded, but before she could move, he caught her cheek in his hand and her lips with his own. The sudden intimacy surprised her and sent a finger of heat shooting down to her stomach. It was a determined kiss, bringing her wobbling to her tiptoes. Then Thor's arms tightened around her waist and he pulled her flush against the warm length of him. Her head spun as she kissed back, fingers sliding along the soft skin of his throat. A sudden, buoyant happiness gave her a rush of confidence. She didn't care what he was god of, she wasn't letting the universe separate them again. Even if she had to build an entirely new Bifrost with her bare hands.

But when they slipped out a few moments later, hands linked like teenagers, she could still feel the weight of that hating gaze, heavy on the back of her neck, and her joy faltered at its force.


	2. Walk into My Parlor

Jane stared down 30,000 feet at tumbling cloud banks and thought about space-time topography. The sun was rising, suffusing the clouds with shades of pink and gold; the ocean far, far below was invisible. The helicarrier cruised slowly north. It would get colder every day as long as they held this course.

She hadn't slept. As it turned out, her quarters weren't so much a bedroom as a former conference suite. Thor had said that most of the living spaces had been destroyed in the "incident" - which she gathered was Dr. Banner's terminology - and the crew were bunking mostly in storage areas. A conference room seemed like a luxury in comparison. Especially when it came with an impressive row of windows along the outside hull.

The view through those windows last night had taken her breath away. The stars were so bright this high up, brighter than she'd ever seen them with the naked eye. Like so many times before, the sight of them had sent her thoughts spiraling into obsessive cycles of mathematical equations and half-conceived physical diagrams. Faster-than-light travel, that was the crux. She'd solved it once - sort of - and now she was going to solve it again. Hopefully. And somebody had better give her a Nobel for it, too. 

Usually it was near-impossible to get her attention when A Problem had gripped her mind, but Thor, well, he had ways. Highly attention-grabbing ways. She allowed a modest smirk to play over her lips. Last night had been good. Really exceptionally good. If nothing else, at least she could say she'd gone toe-to-toe with a kind of a demi-god. Thor might have a mighty hammer, but she had... she had... Darcy would've thought of a funny ending to that sentence, but the best Jane could come up with was "wormhole" and, well. She was an astrophysicist, not a comedian. 

She missed Darcy. And Erik. Perhaps she could have Erik invited out here, too, if he was up to it. Although she didn't think she would be, in his place. Not after being basically mindraped by... him. She gave her head an angry shake. It would be nice to have Erik, though. Especially with a problem like this one.

"Waking for the ravens?" a sleepy voice said behind her. 

She turned to find Thor rolling lazily out of the bed wedged awkwardly in the far corner, on the opposite side of the conference table. He padded down the length of the room to some cabinets at the end wall and began digging through them. Jane paused in her musings to watch; Thor in nothing but boxers was something worth giving one's full attention to. She wondered who'd bought them for him. S.H.I.E.L.D.-issue boxers, maybe? Matching underwear for Earth's mightiest heroes? The thought made her grin.

"Ravens?" she asked in response to Thor's question.

He leaned against the cabinets in a way that _must_ have been for her benefit and beamed at her. "Asgardian saying," he said. "Every morning at dawn, Odin sends his ravens out to tell him what is happening in the world. So if you wake at dawn..."

"You're waking for the ravens!" Jane finished.

"Exactly." He retrieved a box from the cabinets and shook it. "I asked Agent Hill to provision us with the finest Midgardian fare, and I believe she saw to it personally. May I prepare you some," he read the label on the box. "Captain Crunch for breakfast? I wonder if he's a relation of Captain Steve..."

Jane laughed and practically bounced to the table. Any sugary breakfast cereal would satisfy her, and it turned out that Captain Crunch was very much to Thor's taste. They sat, legs entwined, crunching away until someone knocked at the door. Thor shouted for them to come in before Jane could suggest that he put a shirt on first. Asgardians apparently had their own ideas about modesty.

Their visitors were a man she instantly recognized from the news as Steve Rogers - Captain America himself! - and a woman she didn't know who introduced herself as Natasha Romanoff.

Swallowing an undignified urge to squeal, she shook Captain America's hand, grinning like a fool. Natasha, he explained, had interrogation training and would be going into the cage with her today. Jane was a bit embarrassed at how relieved that made her feel; she really had no idea what to say to Loki, and Natasha radiated cool professionalism and a reassuring deadliness. 

"It's my job to make him cooperate," Natasha said, with a smile that said she knew a hundred ways to elicit cooperation, "you just think about what exactly you want to ask. Make a list if it helps."

So she did, sitting down after breakfast and trying to pull together the vague thoughts she'd been having about topography and lines of space-time and possibly a tangent on probability. She was going to have to start with the theory; logistics like power and materials would have to come later. Steve and Natasha had convinced Thor not to come along, but he sat watching her work with an appreciation that occasionally brought a blush to her cheek.

She committed the list to memory, feeling almost confident when Natasha came back to walk her down to the cage.

***

Loki watched silently as Jane and Natasha sat down in front of him. His face was smooth, unmarred by the intense emotion that had so disturbed Jane the day before. He looked, in fact, utterly calm; he might have twiddled his thumbs, if his hand weren't currently being crushed under a magic hammer.

"Midgard must be truly desperate," he said, "to send such formidable warriors against me. I'm overawed."

Natasha smiled, a tiny, predatory curve of her lips. "Luckily for you, Loki, we're not here to fight."

"What a pity. I'm to be subjected to two weeping women instead of one, then? Nick Fury concocts the most exquisite torments."

Jane wondered if that could be a reference to a previous confrontation with Natasha. The agent certainly didn't seem like the weeping type.

"I think we'd all like to get through this with as little weeping as possible," Natasha said. "You understand me."

Clearly, Loki understood, and didn't appreciate the threat. His eyes narrowed into a shadow of the cold, glittering glare that had so frightened Jane before. 

"This is Dr. Jane Foster," Natasha continued, completely unfazed. "One of our scientific consultants."

"Ah yes," Loki said. "Thor's little..." His gaze slid slowly down her body from head to feet and back up again. Despite herself, Jane felt heat rising to her cheeks. She gritted her teeth and stared back defiantly, eliciting only a slight eyebrow raise in response. "Friend," Loki finished.

"We have some questions for you."

No response, just that pale, cynical stare. Jane had a sudden suspicion that he knew exactly why they were there, had planned out this conversation in advance. Her confidence was quickly ebbing away.

"About physics," Jane said, unable to stomach the silence. "Specifically, interplanetary travel. I know you can travel without using the Bifrost - without using an Einstein-Rosen bridge at all. Like some kind of teleportation. I want to know how it works. How you do it." Well, that came out all right. Short, to the point, and her voice sounded firm.

Some of the enmity had crept back into Loki's eyes as she spoke. "And, having acquired this knowledge, you'll use it to hand me cheerfully over to my executioners? Charming girl."

"It's not like that - " she said indignantly.

"Just what do you imagine awaits me in Asgard?" he shot back. 

"Thor wouldn't let anything happen to you." That she was certain of. "And Odin, he's wise and a good king, it's not like he's going to have you drawn and quartered."

The tension in the room suddenly crackled. "You know nothing about Odin, little mortal. Or about his son. By the way, thanks for that little show last night. The days are so dull in here." Ugly hostility turned his voice into a hiss. "Do you truly think Thor's affections _mean_ anything? He will discard you soon, as he has all the others. Why do you think he never came back for you?"

Jane let the words roll over her like so much hot air. She'd obviously hit Loki's hot button by mentioning his family, and he was hitting back. But if he thought he could bait her into jealousy, he wasn't as clever as his reputation would have it. 

"I'm told he was busy kicking your ass," she said.

Loki changed tack without batting an eyelid. "No doubt that's how he would put it. Which is why I'm considerably less eager for Thor's tender attentions than you are. We're talking about a man who once beat someone nearly to death for defeating him in a drinking contest. Has he told you that story?"

This time Jane couldn't quite suppress a reaction. That _had_ to be a lie. Loki couldn't expect her to believe a story like that, could he? But why make up such an unbelievable one? Unless its sheer ludicrousness was supposed to convince her it couldn't be a fiction.

He was probably just messing with her head.

"I'm not here to talk about Thor," she said tightly.

"It's an unavoidable topic between us, I'm afraid, Ms. Foster. And aren't there _so_ many things you want to know?"

She ignored the question. "When you teleport, are you actually breaking the light-speed barrier? Or does it involve manipulation of space-time itself, like the Bifrost?"

He rolled his eyes upwards as if praying. "The dice of god are always loaded," he said. It sounded like some sort of quotation, but she couldn't place it. Maybe a prayer? Did Asgardians pray? She realized she didn't know. 

Loki looked back at her with a curl of his lip. "If you want me dead, do your own dirty work. I won't braid the hangman's noose for you."

"You're horrible. I don't want you dead," she said in a low voice. Except maybe she did a bit, at that particular moment. 

"Then don't send me back to Asgard," he countered. "If anyone can convince Thor, it's you. Apparently." He spat the final word out like a too-bitter pill. 

"Let's be honest," Natasha said, cutting in blandly as if they were discussing dinner arrangements, "We, and by that I mean S.H.I.E.L.D, the organization that is _actually_ holding you right now, don't really care where you go. Asgard, Jotunheim, whatever. We just want you gone. Give us the information we need and we'll send you anywhere you'd like to go. As long as you stay away."

The long fingers of Loki's free hand drummed on the table as if he were considering it. "A tempting offer. But you fool no one. You can't even release me from this cage; only Thor can do that, and he'll never allow me to escape to some other realm."

"Your stubbornness is only closing off your own avenues of escape," Natasha said softly. "What do you think S.H.I.E.L.D. will do if we can't send you off peacefully? Think through the options."

Loki's fingers stilled and he focused on Natasha as if Jane had vanished altogether. "No doubt you have other _scientific consultants_ diligently working on the problem of how to kill an Asgardian in a more direct manner."

Jane's fingers gripped the edge of her seat in shock. That hadn't even occurred to her. But of course there would be a plan B, if she couldn't come up with any results... did Thor know? He couldn't, he would never allow it.

"And no doubt someone's come up with a few nasty ideas already," Loki said, taking no notice of her reaction, "But again, the decision isn't yours. Thor won't let me be killed here unless he does it himself."

"So you prefer to stay in the cage?" Natasha said, letting contempt shine through in her tone.

"With company such as this, it's barely a hardship at all, don't you think?" Loki said, wide-eyed with false innocence. "My brother is even kind enough to visit me every day and bring all his little friends along."

And that was the last word they got out of him. When she and Natasha finally left in defeat, Jane reflected bitterly that the only thing she'd learned was that Loki really hated PDAs.

***

"It was a disaster," Natasha said, popping a french fry into her mouth. She, Steve, Thor, and Jane were having a late lunch in the helicarrier's atrocious cafeteria. Or perhaps they called it a mess hall. It was certainly a mess, Jane thought, picking morosely through the iceberg lettuce in her salad. And people kept staring at them. Well, mostly at Thor and Steve.

"He is such a _creep_. Sorry for losing it a little in there," Jane said sheepishly. 

"Not your fault," Steve said. "You probably did better than I would've, anyway. Facing down someone like Loki... it's not easy, even if he is in chains. Well, under a hammer."

She still couldn't quite believe she was having lunch with Captain America. And he was saying nice things about her. All right, it was a little difficult not to stare at him herself. 

"The problem is, we don't really have any cards to play," Natasha said. "He's not going to fall for my usual act again. Especially since he's used the same trick on us himself. He knows he's not in any genuine danger from us. He doesn't want to go to Asgard. We don't have anything he wants except, presumably, his freedom, and he knows we won't give him that."

"Perhaps if I talk to him..." Thor said. 

"No offense," Natasha said drily, "But that's a sure-fire way to shut him up for good."

"I think he feels like you're flaunting your freedom when you go see him," Jane murmured.

Natasha gave her a slow, considering look. "Yeah. I got that from him, too. Nice insight." She continued demolishing her lunch with neat and careful efficiency, apparently oblivious to Jane's pleasure at the praise. "He _did_ react negatively to threats. It's probably partly anger that we puny mortals would dare to touch him and partly fear that we puny mortals could get him to talk under torture."

"We are _not_ torturing my brother," Thor said firmly. "As I said when Fury suggested it before. You S.H.I.E.L.D. people seem overly quick to torture prisoners to me."

Natasha continued her line of thought without addressing Thor's objection. "There are basically two options left. Torture: fast, messy, not usually very effective. I realize that your relationship with him compromises your judgment in this area," she said to Thor, "but you must know that Fury is perfectly willing to give that order, if he thinks Loki's presence is becoming too dangerous."

"And that is an order I will not allow to be carried out," Thor said. "No matter how much I respect Nick Fury and his dedication to protecting Midgard." His blue gaze had turned steely. 

"What's the other option we have?" Jane asked, trying to smooth over the fault line that appeared to be opening.

"Well, the best way to get information out of someone is to get them to trust you, build a relationship. Basically, flip them. But it requires a significant time investment."

"Yes," Thor said. "Yes! - we must try. He's not entirely lost to good, I know it." He looked around at the three of them. "I _know_ it."

The look Natasha gave him wasn't quite compassionate, but it was slightly less chilly than her usual demeanor. "You could be right. But he won't talk to you, and we don't have the time to build up a relationship with someone else."

"There've been some protests about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s failure to bring Loki to justice already," Steve explained. "A riot in New York yesterday. People are angry about the destruction. More serious - some rumblings in the, uh, superhuman community. Loki's got significant potential as a weapon or ally, especially for some of the wild cards out there."

"Every hour he's on Earth is another hour in which he might escape," Natasha said. 

Jane could see Thor's face growing darker and darker with each word, but he didn't protest again. The situation sounded so grim; she felt a pang of sympathy for how helpless he must feel. Being an only child herself, it was difficult to understand how important that bond must be to him... she tried to imagine knowing someone for a thousand years, growing up with him, thinking you knew him. And then suddenly, in what must feel like a very short time, seeing him change into someone else - someone who hated you and the home you'd shared. 

"Hey, guys," she said, trying to stave off the gloom. "Don't write me off yet. I've invented interplanetary travel before, you know." She attempted a lighthearted grin. "Just imagine the look on Loki's face if I figure it out without any help from him at all."

Thor gave her a grateful smile and Steve looked abashed. "Sorry, doc," he said. "You're right, we should have more faith in you."

"I'll let it slide this once," she promised.

She just hoped she could deliver. She didn't want Thor to have to face the other options. 

***

After the previous sleepless night, Jane dozed off early in the evening with her head on Thor's shoulder, a notebook full of equations still on her lap. She started awake in the middle of the night with the feeling that there had been a sound, something that jolted her out of sleep. But the conference room was silent and dark, except for the moonlight flooding in through the windows. Thor had evidently carried her to bed; he lay next to her, one arm draped possessively over her waist. 

She smiled down at him. He looked younger in the soft light, and his long, blonde hair glimmered. 

"I bet you never beat anyone to death over a drinking contest. That liar," she whispered, and kissed his temple softly. The cut that had still looked half-healed yesterday was almost gone now. She shook her head in amazement. 

Unfortunately, she was wide awake now. Bits and pieces of the math she'd been working on before she fell asleep churned up into the conscious part of her mind. Something Loki had said that day had been bothering her.

She slipped out of bed and paced back and forth before the windows, drinking in the sight of the night sky. _The dice of god are always loaded_ , that had been it. It had given her pause because it hadn't really made sense in context. And it reminded her of Einstein's line about God not playing dice with the universe - a quote that had been on her mind ever since it had occurred to her that probability theory might play a role in what she was trying to do. The more she thought about it, the more sure she was that the words had been meant for her, specifically. She'd put money on it.

But if Loki was willing to tell her something, why not just say so outright? Was Natasha's presence an obstacle for some reason? Maybe he didn't want to give S.H.I.E.L.D. anything - after all, they had sent his plans up in flames and imprisoned him. But she was practically S.H.I.E.L.D. herself these days.

Maybe - she shuddered - it was some kind of personal thing. From what she'd seen of Loki so far, that had a certain grotesque plausibility to it. Maybe he thought he could get at Thor through her.

Jane watched the sprawled figure on the bed and something inside her went soft with tenderness. She had to solve this, for Thor. Maybe... maybe Loki had gone mad out in space and Asgard's magic could cure him somehow. She didn't believe what he'd said about Odin. Or executioners. There had to be a way out of this without any more death. 

She put on a jacket and shoes over her pyjamas and slipped out into the corridor. The lights here were on, of course; she blinked, letting her eyes adjust, and starting padding in the direction of the round room.

She was halfway there when it occurred to her that there were probably security cameras all over the helicarrier. The thought froze her in mid-step. Had someone seen her already? What would she say if they had? She had security authorization, so it wasn't as if she was breaking any rules, but... somehow, she didn't want anyone to find out what she was doing.

After a moment, she decided there was nothing for it except to continue. She couldn't exactly shut off all the cameras without anyone noticing, even if she could get at the controls. And she found herself unwilling to turn back. But for the rest of the way, she couldn't shake an itchy feeling between her shoulder blades, as if someone was indeed watching.

When she entered the round room, the cage was brightly lit and Loki was sitting still as a statue, exactly as they'd left him. He didn't move when the door to the room opened and closed; soundproof, she recalled, the cell had been soundproofed. She fought against sudden apprehension, acutely aware of the sound of her breathing. What was she doing confronting a homicidal alien in her pyjamas in the middle of the night? 

Saving his life, she told herself. For Thor. She hoped, anyway.

Loki still didn't move when she keyed her way into the cell. Her heart was racing. She had no idea what she was going to say to him. _Give up all your secrets, you bastard_? What could she say that Natasha hadn't already thought of? 

But she was still fairly confident that he wanted to talk to her. Just her. 

She made sure the cell's door was closed and squared her shoulders before turning to face him...

... and almost ran directly into his chest. 

She nearly shrieked aloud, hands flying to cover her mouth. Her feet stumbled backward in panic, fight-or-flight, dear God, he was _huge_ , he was wearing some kind of helmet that made him look seven feet tall - 

Jane's back thudded against the glass wall and she stared up in horror at Loki, not at all a prisoner. Mad alien on the loose, she wanted to scream. Couldn't the security cameras _see_ this? But if he was free, he must be using his magic to - 

In one quick step, he had her pinned against the wall, one hand on either side of her head, escape routes cut off. He didn't say a word. His eyes were flat and dead as glass. 

Something in her mind took note of these facts and then _clicked_ , a tiny spear of logic shooting through the dark cloud of panic. She took a deep breath, slowly lowering her hands from her mouth. This wasn't right. Reason said Loki couldn't budge Mjolnir. And if he could, he would be out of the cage, not hanging around to terrify her. And surely he should be gloating at having tricked her into this situation? 

He was, she suddenly recalled, a master of illusion. Natasha had warned her about it before they went into the cage. And Thor had told her how even he couldn't tell Loki's creations from the real thing much of the time. Obviously this was one of the powers Mjolnir had not dampened.

The solution to the problem dispelled her fears in one swoop. She thrust an arm through the illusion's chest and it burst into a shower of little golden points, each one drifting down to the floor before it vanished. Triumph and adrenaline almost made her grin.

There was a low laugh and she saw that the chair and table were occupied again. She slid around the perimeter of the room until she could see his face. 

Loki had his chin propped on his free hand as if bored. He looked up at her from under raised, sardonic brows.

"Clever mortal," he said. And regarded her with sharp, malevolent interest, as a spider might a fly.


	3. Deepest, Darkest

"So, I'm here," Jane said. "Got your little message. Change your mind about talking?"

"All according to plan," Loki replied. "I prefer not to have spies present when discussing secrets."

Secrets. "So... you're willing to tell me how it works?" She tried not to sound too eager. This was it, this was their chance, she _had_ to land this. 

"I can tell you what you want to know. But not, of course, for free."

And there was the rub. She fully expected Loki to exact some kind of ghastly fee - or try to cheat her. Well, she was ready.

"Shoot," she said.

He looked quizzical.

"Uh, I mean... go on."

Instantly, he became all business. "Everything I said today stands. I don't want to go to Asgard and I won't help you send me there. But," he leaned forward in the chair, "I _will_ tell you how to travel between worlds if you use the knowledge to help me escape from here instead of turning me in."

Jane's thoughts raced. However his teleportation worked, he couldn't do it while pinned down by Mjolnir or he would be gone already. He didn't expect to get it back before he was in Asgardian hands... so his strategy was to have her design his escape route while pretending to work on extraditing him? Except the last thing she wanted was Loki free to terrorize people again, and he must know that. Did he think her desire for knowledge alone was enough to sway her to help him escape?

She needed to know more.

She paced back and forth in front of the table. "We don't really have magic here, you know," she said. "Whatever you tell me, I'm going to have to adapt it to our science and technology. I mean, you won't just be able to go poof - " She snapped her fingers. "And end up wherever. We'll need something like a gateway, a stationary device."

"Yes. Some Midgardian contraption." His eyes wandered around the consoles and equipment around the edge of the room. "Such a petty way of directing power. But easy enough to master. Whatever you build, you'll simply program it to send me somewhere else of my choosing."

Jane pitied whatever planet he was hoping to foist himself off on next. 

"And once you're free, of course, you can just travel straight back to Earth or wherever you want and start killing and enslaving people again," she said.

That drew him up short. "Thinking ahead, I see. Would you believe me if I swore not to return to Midgard?"

She rolled her eyes. "No."

His expression hardened. "Half the things you believe of me are untrue. Even if you had any right to judge."

"Even half the things you've done would make anyone a monster."

"And what of what's been done to me?" 

"Oh God, am I about to get your whole sob story?"

Loki snarled and surged to his feet, hissing when the hammer stopped him. "You make a pretty show of being righteous. How am I to know _you_ won't double-cross me? You could simply take anything I tell you and build a machine to send me to Asgard no matter what you promise."

"I'm not the one known as the god of lies."

"Your children's stories are only lurid fictions. Do not presume to know me - as if fucking an Asgardian makes you one of us." 

He was shouting. Jane found she had backed up so much that her shoulders had hit the wall again. He switched from mild to menacing so quickly that it seemed almost unnatural. Between short, panicky breaths, she told herself that shouting was all he could do. It was merely an impotent temper tantrum.

He seemed to be making an effort to get a hold of himself, taking deep, steadying breaths that sounded loud in the sudden silence of the cage. Then he sat down, slowly, and stared at the tabletop. 

"It seems we have an impasse," he muttered.

No, damn it, _no_. She struggled to think through the adrenaline. She had to make this work. If only there was some way to make sure he was telling the truth. If only she could trust him - or make him harmless somehow - then sending him somewhere other than Asgard might not be so bad. He'd be out of the messy political situation here on Earth and he wouldn't be dead, so that would make both S.H.I.E.L.D. and Thor happy. If only she could believe he wouldn't go on a killing spree wherever he landed.

"I will swear, you know," he said. "Not to return to Midgard. On whatever you like. There are ways of sealing an oath with magic, but," he shrugged, "I don't have the necessary tools here."

He seemed so sincere, artlessly desperate; he had a trick of making himself look younger, guileless. She didn't trust him an inch. But she wanted what he knew. 

Even if she agreed, a tiny voice at the back of her mind whispered, she could still go back on it. Tricking Loki wasn't exactly something she'd feel bad about. Unless he actually did get executed on Asgard... she pushed the thought away firmly. That was only one of his lies, she was sure of it. 

There was always the small chance that he meant it - but she had no way of telling for sure. Still, if she wanted the information, she would have to act like she believed he was genuine. If that was what it took to get him to talk, she thought she could manage it. But she had to make it convincing, not give in too easily.

She said, "All right. I'm game. But if this is going to work, we're obviously going to need some measure of - ugh - trust. I want a token of good faith." 

Loki studied her. "We're bargaining? They have left me nothing except my clothes. I assume you won't accept promises."

"Yes, I know," she said. An idea came to her in a flash. "That's what I want. Your armor."

He went very still. She could see he was weighing the advantages and disadvantages. "My armor," he said carefully, "is the only object of power I still retain. Removing it would make me significantly more vulnerable. Though not anywhere near as weak as one of you, of course." The last sentence had a definite warning note.

"I know. But it has to be something worthwhile, right? Otherwise there's no point."

"So I'll weaken myself as proof of my good faith, and you'll send me somewhere - harmless. Not Asgard."

Jane took a deep breath.

"Yes," she said, voice steady. "I promise." And imagined crossing her fingers behind her back. "And in return you'll be - harmless."

"Then it's done." 

He stood up and stretched out both arms as far as possible. As if in response to some silent signal, the gauntlets on his arms began to retract, folding in on themselves. His breastplate and the shoulder plates followed, making a soft whispering noise. Jane watched in fascination. The effect traveled from top to bottom and she stooped over to watch it continue beneath the table. Finally, the whole collection of metal plates collapsed into a gold-and-green hexagon about the size of a briefcase with what looked like runic inscriptions engraved on the sides. Loki removed his cape and draped it on top.

Under the armor he wore a long-sleeved green shirt and black pants. He looked rather less fearsome. 

"I want something in return," he said. 

Jane swallowed and nodded. "Name it and we'll see. I didn't really bring much of anything..."

"No matter. Come over here," he said.

That raised a million red flags. He was up to something. Even pinned down and armor-less, he was so much stronger than her. He still had powers she didn't know the full extent of. Maybe he could mind-control her or something. Or simply tear out her throat, one-handed. 

But he really had nothing to gain by killing her at the moment. And if he had mind-control powers, he could have used them already.

Cautiously, every instinct screaming danger, she came closer, stopping just out of his reach. 

"No," he said. "Here. To the table."

"What are you going to do?" she said. Was that a quaver in her voice? Damn it, she would _not_ break down now.

"I won't hurt you. I probably wouldn't survive Thor's wrath if anything happened to you. Don't you agree? That he cares so much for you?" 

Whatever he wanted, she obviously wasn't going to like it. Otherwise he would've told her outright what it was. _Fuck_. It must be some magical thing. What did creepy guys want in fairy tales? Memories? Promises of first-born children? 

She was probably going to regret this. Making up her mind, she took two quick steps and stood across from Loki, letting her hands fall onto the tabletop. 

He jerked his head at the shiny hexagon-cum-armor. "Take it." There was something odd about his eyes. They looked glazed over, as if he were staring at something far away in the distance. 

Deeply suspicious, she picked up the hexagon and moved it an inch or so. It was fairly heavy, but not unmanageable. She would have to hide it somewhere where Thor wasn't going to find it. Her stomach twisted, guilt mixing with suspicion and anxiety. Day two and she was already keeping secrets from him. 

"Okay," she said, looking up at Loki. "What - "

He struck like an adder, free hand gripping her chin and pulling her close. Before she could so much as shriek, his mouth clamped over hers. The kiss was hard and angry, like he was trying to bruise her lips, _no, no, he'd said he wouldn't hurt her_ \- 

He twisted her chin up until her lips parted in a grimace and then delved his tongue into her mouth. She whimpered in shock and clawed at his arm, but he might as well have been made of steel. 

After a second, he stopped and pulled back. She could feel his breath on her cheek, colder than a person's should be, but his eyes were hot with hatred and triumph. His lip curled as he let her go. 

She jerked back instantly, taking the armor with her, until she'd reached a safe distance. "What the _fuck_?" she howled. "You sick freak! Do you really think adding sexual predator to your list of crimes is a good idea? Ugh!" She wiped her mouth on her sleeve in disgust. Her hands were trembling.

Loki looked utterly calm. "I've been hiding this meeting from the cameras. Along with your trip through the corridors to get here. That little moment, however, I've allowed to be recorded. I have put a concealment spell on those few seconds of the recording, so no one will ever see it. Unless, of course, I remove the spell." He gave her a self-satisfied smile. "Which I will do, if you go back on our bargain. If I see so much as a hint of Asgard, Thor will see that, and I can tell you from centuries of experience of living with him that he doesn't like faithless women."

She shook her head slowly from side to side. "You have a seriously twisted mind." And bizarre sexual mores. Was that an Asgardian thing? In her book, non-consensual kissing made _him_ the bad guy, not her. Thor would have to see it the same way. She hoped. "And you don't understand your brother at all." 

As soon as the words were out, she realized it was the worst thing she could've said. Loki had gone rigid, and if looks could kill... she was pretty sure she could _see_ him imagining killing her. The fantasy played across his face so obviously she felt like she was watching it on a drive-in movie screen. She took another, very slow step back, not making any sudden moves.

"I'm sorry," she said in a small voice, "but that was really, really wrong. Do you understand? Don't do that kind of thing. All right?"

He shrugged off the words and let his calm mask return. "When you're done whimpering," he said, "We can get on with it at any time." As if he hadn't just had a moment of supreme grossness. 

The sooner she got some info, the sooner she could get out of here. She took a breath to calm her thoughts. She was definitely keeping at least six feet between them at all times from now on.

"All right," she said, recovering. "Basics. Are you manipulating space-time or traveling faster than light? Both?"

"Neither. Or - it is a manipulation of sorts, but not of place like the Bifrost is."

"What exactly are you manipulating?"

He considered. "Luck," he said finally. "The wind that blows through the World Tree. Maybe fate is a better word."

"What does that mean?"

Loki looked impatient. "As you go through life, you walk on paths, yes? Any kind of path. Pavements, if you like. What you do is find the right path, a short one that takes you where you want to go immediately. So quickly that it may appear to others that you've disappeared and reappeared somewhere else. But actually you have bent Fate to your will, made it give you a shorter path. You see?"

She didn't, not even a little bit. 

"So..." she struggled to translate what he'd said. "Are you increasing the space-time curvature or something? But wouldn't that take a massive gravity well? Which would tear you into little tiny pieces."

"No, no, it's not about force. Anyone could do it if that were the case. It's about _chance_. You happen to find the right way, but by design."

So that was where the loaded dice came in, she supposed. She tried a different approach. 

"Not everyone can do this?"

"No. It's a magic I learned from the sons of Muspell."

"Muspell?"

"Fire giants," he explained as if talking to a particularly stupid child. "From Muspelheim, one of the Nine Realms. You do know the Nine Realms, I hope?"

Okay, she wasn't quite up on her Norse cosmology. But she didn't want to give him any more reason to think she was an idiot. "There are more than nine now, though, aren't there? Since the Chitauri had to come from somewhere." She was pretty sure they weren't in any Norse myths. 

That scored her a point. Loki nodded grudgingly. 

"Okay, you learned how to teleport from some fire giants. How did they teach you?"

His expressed became shuttered. "That's not relevant."

"Well, maybe you could teach me the way they taught you."

He answered with a silky smile, "I don't think you would like that." It sounded like he would, though.

"Moving on," Jane said hurriedly. Her mind was churning, trying to wrestle his words into some kind of coherent concept. How could you travel somewhere without manipulating space-time? "Somewhere" was _made_ of space-time. Everywhere was. You either traveled along normal lines of topography, or you changed the topography. What other way could there be?

Loaded dice, loaded dice, that was the key. "OK, it has to do with probability somehow. Are you saying - " This sounded _so_ ridiculous. " - that you just stand somewhere, then you somehow, like, make Fate put your destination next to you, then you just walk there?"

"Yes! Yes, that's it, exactly."

"But _how_ do you do that?"

"In exactly the way you just said." 

"But..." She ran a hand through her hair in frustration. Loki looked annoyed and she wasn't sure she could take another creepazoid tantrum tonight. She felt suddenly exhausted, like she could lie down right there in the cage and fall asleep. That bench looked really comfortable and it wasn't as if Loki was using it.

She grasped at a figment of an idea. "Are you saying... are there particles of _chance_? Like elementary particles? That might explain why there are so many of them and they're so weird, what if we're missing some principle that ties them all together and it's _probability_? Like a... probability field? Chance boson? But how in the world could it interact with regular matter?" She was talking so fast that she stumbled over her tongue.

Loki looked at her as if she were speaking another language. "Boson?" he said.

"Never mind. It's Midgard stuff." It sounded like fantasy, but there might be a seed of a workable idea in it. She was going to need a lot of computers. Right the hell now. She had to confirm that this framework was possible before she wasted time building things on it.

She picked up the folded-up armor and headed for the exit. 

"You're going?" Loki said, sounding almost disappointed. He twisted in his chair to watch her.

"Yeah," she said, keying open the door. "I need to check on something, that was really good, thank you." 

"But - "

"I'll be back soon. Don't get too bored without me. And we're not telling anyone about this, right?"

She waited for his nod before stepping through the doorway. She could feel him scowling at her back, but the excitement of discovery made her giddy enough not to care.

***

Instead of bed, Jane's feet took her to one of the labs. She'd had a brief look at them during the day, so she knew where she was headed: the main computer hub. The equipment was amazing, state-of-the-art stuff - maybe in need of a few personal modifications, but generally excellent Stark Industries work. Perfect for what she was doing.

The comp lab was dark when she slipped in, but the lights came on automatically. She looked for a place to stow Loki's armor - somewhere people wouldn't go poking around. She intended to have a good, long examination of it later, after she'd satisfied this urgent need to get down some of the ideas she'd just had. Her brain felt like a race car running on fumes - still roaring on all cylinders, but the end was in sight.

The armor ended up wedged behind a file cabinet containing the manuals and spec sheets for the computers. Hopefully no one would have any reason to look back there in the near future. She started up one of the computers and began writing a program that could calculate the probability of a simple event happening on a two-dimensional grid. Fifteen minutes later, she fell asleep.

She woke up to someone gently shaking her shoulder.

"As lovely as you look asleep," Thor murmured, "that angle looks more... painful."

She jerked up, and a jolt of pain shot down her neck and into her shoulder. 

"Argh," she said. Her mouth had that unpleasant after-sleep taste and the lights were way too bright. She knew this feeling all too well: the morning after a night of binge-researching. 

"Oh God," she groaned. "Did I drool on the keyboard?" The computer was in stand-by mode; she pressed a key and saw with relief that the skeleton of the program she'd begun writing last night was still there.

"Making progress?" Thor asked. He examined the lines of code on the screen with keen interest. She wondered if it meant anything to him.

"I think I might be on the right track," she said, grinning at him breathlessly as the theory she'd begun to dream up came flooding back to her. He looked so effortlessly cheerful and handsome - after the dark nastiness of last night, it was like stepping out of a sick room into a breezy, sunny day. She couldn't help it; she jumped into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Well, good morning to you, too," he said, all smiles.

"Miss me?"

"Painfully," he whispered. "Shockingly." He kissed her neck after each word. "Desperately. Madly. Loquaciously?"

She laughed with delight. "Is it early? Do we have time to go back to bed?"

"If anyone tries to stop us, I will call down lightning upon them until they submit."

"Perfect. Now carry me," she demanded.

"With pleasure." He stood up with her in his arms and spun around in a little circle as if to show off how easy it was. Then he strolled away with her out the door and down the corridor for all the world as if he were going for a morning walk. She kicked her legs like a little kid and snuggled closer. 

After a few hours of sex, sleep, and food, Jane felt like a human being again. A content, glowing, satisfied human being. She stood under the hot water of the shower and went over last night's events with the benefit of perspective. The more she thought about it, the more obvious it became that there was no way she could keep her "promise." It would simply be irresponsible to let Loki loose somewhere in the universe. But he had to keep believing that she intended to do it, otherwise he'd have no reason to feed her any more information.

Basically, she was going to double-cross the god of lies. The guy who had leveled half of New York with an extraterrestrial army. He'd been brought to what was probably his lowest point and she was going to screw him where it hurt. Asgard had better have good prisons, because if he ever escaped... she was sure she'd be at the top of his revenge list after this. Assuming he didn't see through her intentions right away; he was pretty perceptive and she wasn't the greatest liar. Last night, though, he'd seemed to buy it.

The water drummed a soothing rhythm on her skin. The next problem was what to tell Thor. Keeping secrets from him made her feel queasy. He was so open and... well, lies were never a good thing in a relationship. And this was his brother. But she doubted he'd like her talking to Loki alone and she was sure S.H.I.E.L.D. would object to being cut out of the deal. And if Loki caught wind of Thor, he'd probably make sure someone found that bit of security camera footage. Not that Jane considered it particularly good blackmail material herself, but... the whole arrangement was so delicate and things with Thor were so idyllic. She only needed to keep the information coming until she figured out a solution. It might not even take that long, if every day was as productive as yesterday.

Okay. She leaned her head against the wall tiles. So she was going to lie to Loki about helping him and lie by omission to Thor and S.H.I.E.L.D. about pretending to help Loki. A nice, simple plan free of ethical or practical problems. Right. 

By the time she got out of the shower, she was feeling a bit less glow-y and a bit more headache-y. She went back to the lab and threw herself into the program she'd started.

Natasha found her there a few hours later. Jane had gotten a fair bit of work done, but she kept running into the same issues over and over again in different forms. More questions had come up. Questions Loki could probably answer, once she could get to him alone again.

"Ready for round two?" Natasha asked. Her mere presence in the lab made it seem classier. "Are you working on something already?"

"Yeah, a comment Loki dropped yesterday gave me an idea," Jane said, truthfully enough.

"Bet that would piss him off if he knew. Maybe you'll get lucky and it'll happen again today."

Of course, Natasha didn't know about Jane's parallel investigations. She was going to have to go along with it and pretend nothing had happened. She and Loki hadn't discussed this aspect of the plan; hopefully he had a good game face.

She needn't have worried about that last part. She, at least, could detect no difference in him once they were in the cage - their second meeting might as well not have happened. He still looked like he was wearing armor, though she knew it must be an illusion he'd conjured. He refused point-blank to talk to Natasha and barely gave Jane a second glance, even when she tried quizzing him about quantum tunneling to make the show more convincing. It was aggravating not to be able to ask the questions she really wanted answers to. She promised herself she would do it that night.

In the evening, she waited until Thor fell asleep and then crept out of bed. She changed into something more substantial than pyjamas this time. It was about two o'clock when she shut the door to the conference room and set off down the corridor.

She had taken exactly seven steps when a low, groaning boom shattered the silence. She froze. The lights flicked off and a sudden, heavy darkness enveloped her. Her heart pounded in her ears. Something had gone wrong. Accident? Attack? 

She heard someone scream, far away.


	4. Foolish Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone for the kudos and your wonderful comments. I love reading what you have to say. <3

Jane groped in the dark. Why didn't the emergency lights work? Which way back to the room? The windows should let in enough moonlight to see by. In the corridor it was dark as pitch. She tried to navigate by the tilt of the floor, but it seemed to be righting itself again. She thought an engine might have cut out on the far side of the helicarrier. They must have it working again now.

She supposed there might have been an accident - perhaps someone had been hurt, that would explain the scream. But the shrewder part of her doubted it. Where was the damn door? She'd barely stepped outside, finding it shouldn't be such a problem.

She fumbled a blind path along the wall. Her fingertips touched metal, metal, more metal, no doors anywhere. Then they hit empty space: an opening into another corridor. She tried to remember where the closest intersection was. Should she turn back here?

She stopped and held her breath, listening. Nothing.

"Thor?" she whispered. Then, more loudly, "Thor, can you hear me?"

There was a noise like very distant voices. Jane strained to hear. People were shouting; they sounded like men, more than one, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. The noise was coming from back behind her, where she'd come from. It was drawing closer. Then the voices stopped and a sound Jane instantly recognized as a gunshot rang out. 

She leaped into movement. No going back. She took the side corridor and blundered along, hugging the wall, stubbing her fingers against it in her haste. The wall disappeared and she was stumbling into empty space; a second later, she ran directly into another wall and only the fact that she'd had her arms extended in front of her saved her from a nasty bruise on the head. She stopped. Dead end? The corridor probably continued to the left and right. She chose right, moving more slowly now.

After some indeterminate time wandering, Jane stopped again. She was completely lost and the lights didn't seem to be coming back soon. She hadn't run into anyone, but for all she knew she'd been going in circles in the same small part of the helicarrier.

Somewhere very close by, a tiny noise disturbed the heavy silence. Jane froze. It had sounded like the sole of a shoe shifting on the ground. Eyes wide open, she listened until she could hear the blood rushing in her veins. Nothing else happened, and yet she grew more and more afraid. Something was there; she could feel it. Her breathing sounded stupidly loud. Something was watching her in the dark.

She began feeling her way along the wall again, each step faster than the last. If she couldn't see it, it couldn't see her. But it could probably hear her. She had to run, run, the reptile part of her brain was screaming _run now don't ever stop run run_ \- 

Two mercilessly strong hands seized her. She screamed. She was thrown against the wall so hard her head struck it, bounced back. A light went on in front of her face. It seemed impossibly bright, but as her eyes adjusted she could see it was only a small flashlight. The person holding it shone it into her eyes. She couldn't see their face. 

"Dr. Jane Foster," a man's voice said. The hand holding her against the wall didn't relax its grip. The voice was strange to her: male, American accent, no one she recognized. Professional, almost expressionless. She raised a hand to shade her eyes against the brightness. 

"Yes?" she said. She could make out close-cropped hair, some kind of goggles. Infrared? So he'd been able to see her after all. "Who are you?"

"There is an alien subject on board this ship. My intel says you're senior enough to have access to it. Take me there."

Of course. This was about Loki. She felt a surge of anger toward him. Even locked up, he sowed chaos all around him. Like the apple of discord.

She couldn't think of anything more cogent to say than, "No."

The soldier produced a gun from the shadowy space beyond the light. It gleamed as he pressed it gently to the center of her forehead. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. No more screaming. No sudden moves. 

"Take me to Loki."

"I don't know where we are."

"You're not far from your quarters. Have a look around. Get your bearings."

The cold barrel of the gun withdrew. She opened her eyes. The soldier had taken a step back and lifted the small light. It wasn't much, but enough for her to recognize her surroundings. She hadn't come as far as it had felt like, and had in fact been traveling in the direction of the cage. As if her feet had unconsciously chosen the route there. 

"We can get in without you," the soldier said. "But this would be easier."

"All right." Maybe he wouldn't really shoot her, but Jane was never one for playing chicken. 

She started walking and heard footsteps following behind. The tiny light cast massive hulking shadows in front of her feet. She began to think. He knew a lot, but apparently wasn't familiar enough with the plan of the carrier to find his way around in the dark. He'd said "we," so he wasn't alone. She couldn't take him, but if only she could get to Thor or Steve or Natasha or Maria Hill...

She heard him say something, very softly, that she couldn't make out. Communicating with other members of his group, she guessed. Probably telling them where he was headed. 

Perhaps she could do the same.

She took a path very similar to the one to the cage and hoped that someone on this ship was on the same wavelength as her. Halfway there, the soldier directed her to stop and they were joined by two more people, a man and, she thought, a woman, also equipped with dark clothing, infrared goggles, and guns. Far too many guns. Jane's stomach tightened with anxiety. If her hunch paid off, someone was going to be facing a lot of firepower. 

She and her captors continued on their way. She led them to a familiar door and began keying in the access code.

"Wait," one of them said, but Jane didn't stop. Heart fluttering in her mouth, she pushed through the door and took quick steps inside. The computer lab was just as dark as everywhere else; she couldn't even make out her workstation in the feeble glow of the flashlight.

"Stop moving or I _will_ shoot you," a voice said behind her. 

Jane turned around slowly. The barrel of the gun gleamed. Her entire world seemed to shrink down to that fickle light winking at her out of the dark. It could extinguish her life so easily. 

"This isn't the right room," the man with the gun said. 

She tried an apologetic shrug. "I must've gotten turned around. This place is such a warren."

"No. You did it deliberately."

She couldn't look away from the gun.

"I - let me try again. Please. I'll take you straight there."

"No second chances, Ms. Foster."

"No, wait!" Her arms flew up of their own accord as if they could block the bullets. 

Before the man could fire, something huge and fast barreled out of the shadows. It collided with the shooter in a whirl of legs and arms and white and black, sending the tiny flashlight flying. A shot rang out; the retort was ear-splitting, as if someone had rung the entire room like a gong. A ricochet echoed and Jane cowered, hands pressed over her ears. She pulled herself behind a desk just as three more shots fired. 

A man screamed. She saw a gun slide across the floor, propelled from the vicinity of the entrance. It came to a rest half-in, half-out of the beam of light cast by the flashlight, which had rolled into the middle of the room. She could hear the sounds of the fight even through the ringing in her ears. 

Jane made a grab for the flashlight and gun, flinching in anticipation of further shots or yells or someone coming for her. But no one in the fight paid attention to her. She clutched her prizes and retreated back behind the desk. Taking a deep breath, she leaned out past the edge and shone the light at the shadowy figures wrestling on the ground.

It had grown quiet except for a low wheezing sound. The wavering beam of light illuminated a straining, muscle-bound arm, pressing against a black-clad neck. A gloved hand clawed at it. In vain: the bare-armed man overpowered his opponent like an adult swatting away a baby's fingers. The wheezing grew more pained. Then, with a quick jerk, the winner slammed the loser's head against the floor and sat back on his heels.

She would know those biceps anywhere. "Thor?"

His head turned, eyes seeking her out. His hair was a tousled blonde mane and his blue eyes looked feral and bright in the white gleam of the flashlight.

"Jane?" he said. "Are you injured? The guns..."

"I'm fine," she said, coming out from behind her cover to throw herself into his arms. "Not hit at all. What about you?" She felt weak with relief.

He blew out an exasperated breath. "Several times in the course of this ill-starred night. Irritating little gnats." His brow creased and the corners of his mouth were tense. Jane wiped the blood from his knuckles, one by one. Not his, of course; nothing she'd seen these people carrying would break Asgardian skin.

"I'm glad you're basically invincible," she whispered. "It really reduces my stress."

Thor's eyes lingered on the three bodies strewn on the ground around them. "It would have been faster to just kill them. But despicable. You are such fragile creatures." His arms tightened around her. "Even without Mjolnir this fight had no glory in it."

"They're all alive?"

"I... broke one's neck through lack of care." It clearly bothered him.

So one of the bodies next to them was a corpse. The thought made Jane shudder. "Not your fault," she said, trying to sound unflappable. Like Natasha would. "They attacked us."

He clung to her like a lifeline in the dark, big bright god that he was. "I woke to find you gone and blackness everywhere. I was _sure_ they'd stolen you straight from our bed. And me sleeping like an oaf all the while."

She kissed him. "No, no, no. I got up to... to work."

He nodded. "So I thought. And came here."

"Lucky for me," she said wryly.

"If they had killed you, I would not have spared them. Honorable or not." His eyes were filled with angry sorrow and she recalled suddenly that he was alone, that he had not spoken with anyone from his home for six weeks, and might not again any time soon. Except for Loki.

"Loki!" she yelped. "Thor, these people are here to free him or - I don't know, capture him for themselves, maybe. They wanted me to let them in to the cage. Someone might have found their way down there by now. We have to _go_."

They ran all the way, but when they arrived the big curved door was already wedged open. Jane slowed down, getting the flashlight ready, but Thor had already burst through, agile as a wildcat. She followed, gripping the gun and the flashlight. Not that she knew how to fire the thing - she wasn't even sure if the safety was on or off.

All was chaos inside. The beam of her flashlight glanced off Steve's - _Captain America's_ \- shield as it sliced through the air, felling two nearly invisible assailants in quick succession. There was so much _noise_ : screams, clangs, Thor roaring something, a gunshot - she jumped at the sound - all disorienting her. Her tiny light skipped and skittered around the room. Damn it, they should have taken the infrared goggles, she realized, just as someone slammed into her from behind, sending her crashing to the ground. 

There was blood in her mouth and her shoulder throbbed fiercely. She crawled to the side of the room and wedged herself behind the manual controls panel. The gun was no longer in her hand; she must have dropped it when she fell. Huddled like a child in the corner, she shone the light out into the melee. 

Steve was barefoot and in flannel pants and a shirt, not his Captain America suit. As she watched, he pulled his shield over his head just in time to deflect a barrage of gunshots from a black-clad man firing two-handed like a gunslinger. The sharp noise made her jump; the beam skipped to Thor as he picked someone up and simply tossed them against the wall. Then it strayed to the cage, partially glancing off the glass so she could see a murky shadow of herself reflected there. She squinted to see inside. Mjolnir was still there, and Loki. He was crouched on the table, dressed in his shining illusory armor. He was laughing, though she couldn't hear it through the din. 

Someone stepped directly into the beam of light and she looked up into a hard, expressionless face. Black outfit, goggles, gun. He reached for the manual controls. He was either going to let Loki out or drop him. 

"No!" she screamed, and surged to her feet. 

The gun swung around and she didn't have time to say another word or even close her eyes. He was going to shoot her. 

But even as his finger tightened on the trigger, his eyes strayed upwards, widened in shock. He jerked back as if a jolt of electricity had shot through him, almost falling over backward in his haste to retreat. 

Jane turned around slowly, afraid to look. Behind her stood six feet of flashing gold-and-green armor surmounted by enormous curved, golden horns. The figure held a huge, shining staff that it pointed at her would-be shooter; a burst of sparkling light exploded out of it, sending the man dodging away even as it faded into nothing. 

Loki's illusion laughed down at her as if he was having the best day of his life; then it vanished. She whirled, pointing the flashlight back into the cage. He was still there. He met her gaze and inclined his head as if to say _you're welcome_.

And then, at last, the lights came back on. The fight seemed to be almost over. Steve was still grappling with one attacker, but he clearly had it under control. 

The door opened all the way and a towering red robot walked with surprising grace into the room. Jane gaped. The robot's helmet opened and its occupant surveyed the destruction. 

"Did I miss the party?" Tony Stark said.

***

It took 24 hours for Nick Fury to arrive. By the time Jane and Thor were requested on the bridge, it was after dark again. Maria Hill escorted them into a side room and shut the door behind the three of them.

"Have a seat," Fury said. "And before I get to the important things: everything - and I mean absolutely everything - that we say in this room, stays in this room. Understand? And that includes telling members of the Avengers Initiative who aren't here." He looked pointedly at Natasha, sitting with nonchalant folded hands at the semi-circular table. 

"I can keep a secret, sir," she replied with the lightest touch of sarcasm. 

Jane sat down, but Thor remained on his feet, merely placing his hands on the tabletop. The only other people present were Steve, Tony Stark, and Agent Hill. She was dying to speak to Tony Stark - if anyone could help her with the work, it was him. She wondered why he hadn't been here to begin with. They were probably going to need him eventually anyway, when they got to the building stage. 

Looking around at the rest of the group, it was painfully obvious who was the mundane around here. Jane had a split lip, a massive bruise on one arm, a lump on her head, and numerous other small bruises and scrapes scattered around her body. The others - who had _actually_ been fighting - didn't appear to have suffered so much as a broken nail. Well, that was why no one had tapped her for the Avengers Initiative, she supposed.

"That was the worst security breach since," Fury paused. "Since the last time Loki was on this boat."

"Talk about embarrassing," Stark said. "You should let me have a look at your security systems. Or hell, skip that. Throw 'em out, I've got better ones."

"Maybe you could try just showing up on time first, before you take on the big stuff," Steve said.

Stark shrugged. "You guys seemed to have it covered. Nice PJs, by the way."

Steve didn't quite blush, but he jutted his chin out in a way that suggested it took an effort not to.

"If you two are finished with the slap-slap-kiss," Fury rolled his eyes, "Agent Hill, the floor's all yours."

Hill planted herself firmly in front of the table. She looked unruffled but, Jane thought, weary, with smudges of shadow beneath her eyes. Running the helicarrier couldn't be easy, especially... Jane wondered if this had actually been the first attack, or if there might have been more attempts that had never gotten this far. Just because she had security clearance didn't mean they told her everything.

"The group who hit us is a private military company called Pallas Corp. No known superhuman or non-human members, but they've contracted with both kinds of clients in the past. We don't know who the end client is yet, but - " She took a breath and glanced at Fury " - in my opinion, we're likely dealing with an all-human private interest or possibly a national government."

"Government?" Steve interjected. "Which country?"

"If it's a government, I would guess Germany. Limited military, solid grudge against Loki after his Stuttgart performance. But a private backer is at least as likely. Pallas Corp breached our lowest level of IT security, which is difficult but not top gun stuff. A lot of the information on that level is bogus - false access codes, inaccurate staff listings and plans. That's why they spent so much time blundering around once they got here."

"A cunning stratagem," Thor said, frowning. "But the door was open when Jane and I arrived at my brother's prison. Unless you opened it?" he asked Steve.

"No way. It was already open when I got there. I followed some of their guys in."

"Then who let them in?" That was Natasha. Her sharp, measuring gaze moved from person to person. "Only the people in this room were supposed to have access codes."

"Uh, except me," Stark said. "'Cause I just got here."

That left Hill, Fury, Natasha, Steve, Thor, and Jane herself. "But it can't be one of us," she said.

All eyes turned to her and she was acutely aware of being the newcomer, not an Avenger or S.H.I.E.L.D. at all. If they were going to suspect anyone, it would be her, right? She opened her mouth to protest her innocence, then closed it. That would sound defensive, and she didn't want to look guilty. It wasn't like she'd done anything wrong, not really.

"Sorry, who are you again, sweetheart?" Stark said.

Thor bristled beside her, but Fury spoke first. "Dr. Jane Foster, currently our consultant on interplanetary travel. You've probably heard of her work, if you pay attention to the scientific community at all."

"Nah. Usually if they've got something important they come to me." God, the man was arrogant. And condescending. This wasn't really how she'd imagined Tony Stark.

"It was also in the files we sent you."

"Was it in the boring ones? I never read those."

"I'll be sure to put more pictures in next time for your benefit." Nick Fury could match anyone when it came to cutting remarks. "Now if we can all tear ourselves away from Mr. Stark's antics for a few moments: the situation has changed. It is apparent that sensitive information is being leaked by some means and that certain parties are quite willing to attack us where we live. We're going to have to track down the leak, and that will take time. We need to speed things up. Dr. Foster, how is your work coming along?"

Jane could hardly believe her ears. "Well, I mean, I've got ideas - a general framework that I'm playing with - but it's only been three days! And I've only spoken to Loki once and," she almost panicked and scrambled to cover up the near-admission, "and he didn't tell us anything, ask Natasha, she was there." Now that really sounded defensive. "I need more time. A lot more time."

"I thought you might say that. I understand you're working from scratch - if Loki just told you how he does it, you could come up with a theory fairly quickly?"

"Sure," she said, uncertain where this was heading. "I mean, probably. It's hard to tell."

"Then we're going to have to ramp this operation up." Fury glanced at Natasha and a look passed between them. And suddenly Jane understood exactly what they were agreeing on.

"No way," she said, stunned. She hadn't really believed they would resort to that. How naive of her.

"What do you mean?" Thor said. "What are you ramping?" But she knew him well enough now to hear the studied denial in his voice. He was hoping it wasn't true. 

Steve looked uncomfortable and Stark was staring at Fury with narrowed eyes.

"'Enhanced interrogation'?" Steve said. "Still not used to this newfangled terminology. Back in my day we just called it torture."

"Your day was more honest about some things, I'll give you that," Stark said.

"I forbid it." Thor's voice was calm but commanding. "As prince and representative of Asgard on Earth, I forbid it. For the sake of the friendship between our two realms, do not do this."

"No offense, Thor," Fury said, and his eyes were bleak, "But we haven't heard a peep from Asgard since they dropped you back down here. And you might never hear from them again if we don't pry this information out of your brother. At the moment, you're not anyone's representative."

Thor was gripping the table so hard his fingers left dents in its surface. Jane put a hand on his arm, but she was hardly feeling calm herself. She wanted to scream at them all. There was a small flaw in their plan, namely that _Loki was already talking_. If there was one thing worse than torturing someone, it was torturing them when they had already done what you wanted.

But she couldn't tell them. Loki had made the terms of their agreement clear. He would only talk to her - and there was no way S.H.I.E.L.D. would stand for being cut out of the deal if they knew.

"You will not find it easy to harm him," Thor said, his voice turning plaintive. "He is _of Asgard._ "

"Maybe not with sticks and stones," Fury said, "but he seems pretty scared of your lightning."

"I will _not_ assist you."

"I'm not asking you to. Just let us do our job, Thor. I give you my word that he'll live and we'll be as circumspect as possible."

The stormy glare Thor shot him would have made any other man flinch. Fury merely gazed back, unyielding and world-weary. Finally, Thor looked away. Jane tried to catch his eye, but he stared fixedly at the table, brow creased into a deep frown.

"Dr. Foster?" Fury said.

"I-I won't have to be there, right?" she asked. "You're not expecting me to..." She trailed off, too nauseated to continue.

Fury and Natasha exchanged looks again. 

"Make me a list of the questions you want asked," Natasha said. "I'll handle it."

At least that would be easy. She'd already asked them. 

She tried not to think of the fact that she could stop this if she - "confessed" made it sound like she was committing a crime. But what would the result be? They'd stop her from visiting the cage alone. Especially if she admitted that her part of the bargain was to help Loki escape, right after a possible security leak had been detected in the group. There was no way that would go over well. They might remove her from the project, and then she'd be cut off from the source of information, her research would stall, Loki would stop talking all together, and then he'd be tortured anyway. Catch-22. 

Then again, she was pretty sure he had saved her life last night. She felt the weight of that debt on her shoulders like a leaden blanket. She owed him. She had to do _something._

Suddenly things had become immeasurably more complicated. Jane felt like she was still groping in the dark: searching for a light, a guiding star, a will o' the wisp, anything to lead her out of this mire. 


	5. This for That

“I thought you would return sooner,” Loki said.

It was the night after Fury’s meeting. The whole vast metal mass of the helicarrier finally slept, exhausted from battle and its aftermath; it was so quiet Jane thought she could hear the lights hum. The brightness inside the cage made her tired eyes hurt. Beyond the cell she could see nothing of the dark room; it was as if she and Loki floated, isolated, in a spotlight in a black abyss. 

“There was some fall-out from the attack,” she said. “They had to go through all the security measures again and tighten them up. Getting in here is going to be more difficult in the future. By the way,” she took a deep breath, “Thank you. For scaring off that guy. I was dead meat.” Credit where credit was due, obligation discharged.

“You’re welcome,” he said with perfect courtesy. “Naturally I can’t have you harmed.” He sounded sincere, but the turmoil of the last two days hadn’t made her forget how quickly he’d erupted into rage the last time they’d spoken.

“And why would you care about that?” Jane asked, suspicious.

He looked innocently puzzled. “We have a bargain, don’t we? It will hardly work if you’re dead.”

Of course. Loki’s motives were all self-serving. At least he wasn’t even pretending otherwise. She could handle honest self-interest as a basis for this alliance.

“I’m pretty sure that guy was going to drop you, too. Thirty thousand feet down.” 

“Yes. How awkward for my captors – to be compelled to protect me.”

“Would that fall actually kill you?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Have you joined one of Fury’s other research teams now? I’m sure some of them would love to know what can kill me.”

“No!” she said. It came out more vehement than intended. She really needed to work on that defensiveness. “But you fell half-way from Asgard, didn’t you? That must have been an even longer way.”

“True. But most of it was not through – what you would call _normal_ space. The actual fall took quite some time to recover from, and since then I have grown weaker. This endless confinement is wearing.” 

She looked around the cage. “It is a bit grim.”

“Perhaps you could put in a complaint for me.”

It took a real effort not to crack even the tiniest smile. “But it’s not like you don’t deserve every bit of it.” That came out more harshly than she’d intended.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he studied her carefully. She had the uncomfortable feeling that he was reading something in her expression – or maybe learning to read her, like a book in a foreign language. She tried to maintain her best poker face, unruffled and placid. The less he knew her, the better. 

“What do you think I deserve?” he finally said. “What would you have done to me, Jane Foster?”

Somehow he’d zeroed in on the topic she least wanted to talk about. “Nothing, OK? Nothing. It’s not my problem. I just want you gone. And that’s what we’re here to figure out, so maybe we should get back on topic.”

“I did break five ribs and puncture a lung when we fell, you know. Two still haven’t quite healed. And this,” he indicated the bruising on his face, “looked rather more spectacular six weeks ago. Whatever cast us back down here wasn’t gentle. If that satisfies your desire to see me punished in any way.”

She was too surprised to take offense. “Didn’t S.H.I.E.L.D. treat your injuries? I would’ve thought…”

He laughed lightly. “Midgardian healing does more harm than good. It’s quite grotesque, really.” He made a face as if he were talking about medieval leeching practices.

She wished he weren’t acting so… cordial. Almost subdued. The last thing she wanted to hear about right now was Loki’s vulnerability. If only he would have a tantrum or spit insults at her or try to slander Thor so she could remind herself that he’d earned everything that was coming to him.

“What troubles you?” His voice was soft.

For some reason I’m worried about your loathsome self, Jane didn’t say. 

Instead, she said, “Equations. The equations are troubling me, Loki. It's impossible to narrow down the number of variables because any event could be a factor - an important one, given chaos theory. I just keep getting infinities everywhere. The equations can't be solved analytically and the computers here don't have enough processing power to model them. I don't think any computer could." That didn't even touch on the problems with turning math into engineering that she could see looming up ahead - but one thing at a time. She relaxed a little; talking shop was safe ground.

He shook his head. "Forget about the computers. An artificial mind can't conceive of magic, only an intelligent one."

A central problem, she had realized over the last few days, was that Asgardians didn't have mathematics beyond basic arithmetic. Apparently, they were able to understand and analyze the universe around them directly, without using symbolic logic - instead they used metaphor. So when she said _E = mc2_ , Thor said _light turns all things into weightless thought_. Unfortunately, her poetry-to-math translation skills were rudimentary at best.

"We use science down here on Earth, remember?"

Loki gave the faintest annoyed sigh. "Very well. Though you’re going the long way around."

"I just need a clue here. How do you exclude the parts of reality that aren't relevant?"

"You don't. You're not changing the fate of the universe, only your own."

"You mean... changing my own probability field? I suppose that's simpler, in the sense that one infinity is less complicated than ten infinities, but it's just as impossible to calculate. And what if I wiped myself out of existence by accident?"

"No, that wouldn't happen. You could only travel a wrong path by accident." 

She didn't see why that should be the case, a clear sign that she was missing some underlying principle. Maybe a more specific approach would be better - it had worked last time. 

"Did that ever happen to you?" she asked.

"Of course," he said frostily. "A long time ago."

"Tell me how it happened. Maybe if I can understand what went wrong, I'll understand better how it's supposed to work."

Loki remained silent for several seconds, staring at her. He did indeed still look rather the worse for wear, washed out in the harsh light, yellowing bruises and new seams of scars marring his face. Imprisonment must have prevented him from healing as quickly as Thor. He didn't bother to conjure illusory armor for her benefit and without it he seemed strangely human, no older or more alien than Jane herself.

"Very well, then. A cautionary tale, if it will help."

"Wait, let me get a chair." There were a few folding ones leaned against the wall outside the cage. She'd also brought pen and paper this time, tucked into her back pocket. When she was settled - carefully out of arm's reach - she nodded to him to continue.

"When I was younger," Loki said, "there was a warrior with whom I had a feud. His name was Osvif and he was a follower of Thor, though not a close friend - merely a hanger-on, eager to ingratiate himself. He thought a good way to accomplish this would be to needle me constantly, taunt me in front of my brother's inner circle. To whisper in Thor's ear that I was too weak and cowardly to deserve the honor of accompanying him everywhere. He was jealous." A soft laugh followed the last word. "Of me. Of course, he was an imbecile and it was easy enough to turn his own words back against him. But Thor thought it was hilarious. He would encourage Osvif just so he could watch us quarrel."

Jane wanted to protest against the picture he painted of Thor - Thor, a petty instigator of drama? Forthright, genial Thor? - but Loki wasn't even looking at her. His eyes had a faraway expression, soft and unfocused. He spoke in a slightly affected, mellifluous tone, like someone reciting poetry. Maybe Asgard had a bardic tradition.

"One day Osvif set what was, by his standards, a cunning trap. We were on a hunt and he diverted our party to the lair of a giant serpent. I did not know it, but he had hidden a charm of herbs and blood under my saddle. The serpent smelled it and was provoked into a rage - it went straight for me. Osvif's goal was to force me to run away in front of Thor, to make me look craven so he could take my place in the company. But the serpent was deadly fast; it had me in its coils before I could even think of running. It was about to squeeze the life out of me. There, you want to tell S.H.I.E.L.D. what can kill me?" His eyes focused on Jane again and he flashed his manic grin. "Asgardian serpents. If they can catch one, I'll even lie down quietly for it."

"Did you use teleportation to escape?" Jane said, a bit transfixed despite herself. 

"Yes. I tried, though I'd only learned how to do it shortly before. But you can't travel without moving, and I was held tight. Instead of giving me a path I could walk along, luck simply gave me - another situation without movement, a variation on the theme. I ended up buried in the ground, hundreds of feet below the surface, trapped in the dirt. So, there is what happens when you misuse principles of magic."

"That sounds... terrifying." There was a certain logic to how it worked, if she could figure out how to mathematicize it. But the insight was overshadowed by horror at the thought of being buried alive. She could hardly believe he'd survived; the kind of abuse Asgardians could take constantly amazed her. "How did you get out?" she asked.

"Odin came and got me, after he found out what had happened. He tore open the earth until he reached me. There's a river valley at that place now." He sounded, for an instant, wistful, even sad.

"And Thor? What did Thor do?" she couldn't help asking.

Loki gave her a flat stare. "He killed the serpent."

"Did they - did the others know what had happened to you?"

"No, they only knew that I'd disappeared. They went home."

"How long were you trapped?"

"They told me it was a day and a night. But it felt much longer."

She could imagine. It must have been horrible, waiting, wondering if you'd been forgotten, despairing that anyone would ever find you. The rage when you realized what had happened and who had done it.

"And Osvif?"

"I got rid of him later." There was a strange, petulant defiance on Loki's face, like a wounded, angry child, overlaid with a shadow of satisfaction. She wondered if the story was true - or how much of it was. He had told it plainly, without any guile that she could detect, his expression as naked and open as - well, as Thor's usually was. He was the god of lies, sure, but inventing stories of his own fallibility seemed contrary to the ethos of a man arrogant enough to try to conquer a planet.

Under her scrutiny, his gaze suddenly sharpened, narrowed as if all his attention was coming to a point. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" Jane stammered.

"With pity."

"I'm not. I'm not." Surely she hadn't been. 

"Yes, you are, little mortal. I can see it. Last time we met you despised me, now sympathy bleeds out your eyes. What has changed?"

"Nothing's changed. Your story made me feel bad for you for two seconds, OK? Now they're over, I promise."

"No, you already pitied me before that." The polite mask he'd been wearing all night slipped as his lips twisted into a snarl. "Do you think me helpless and defeated, is that why? I'm not so helpless as all that." He was on his feet, leaning over the table as far as possible as if to reach her. His bared teeth and hollow eyes gave the impression of a hungry skull.

She wasn't frightened at all. There was nothing he could do.

Suddenly, she wanted out, out of this horrible cell and everything it contained. Otherwise she was going to blurt out everything in a moment, and she had no idea how that would change the balance between them. She'd taken a few notes, had a few new ideas; it would have to be enough for now.

She stood up and folded the chair, avoiding Loki's eyes.

"Wait!" he said. "You're keeping something from me. What is it?"

"I'll be back soon, I promise!" Jane said over her shoulder as she slipped out. She didn't look back. It was a relief to disappear into the dark, sleeping corridors.

***

She made it back to bed before bursting into silent tears. There were too many secrets, too much stress. She was going to crack if she didn't tell someone what was going on.

"Jane?" a yawning voice said. A beat of silence. Then: "Are you weeping?"

She scrubbed the tears away with the back of her hand and took a shuddering breath. Thor's arms enveloped her in a reassuring embrace, his worried face pale in the moonlight. "Is something amiss? Have you been in the lab again?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice. If she opened her mouth right now, she wasn't sure what would come out.

"What troubles you, dear heart?"

She almost shuddered at the echo. Did she dare tell him that his brother had said almost the exact same words to her only an hour ago? Would Thor keep the secret from S.H.I.E.L.D.? Would he insist on coming with her? Would he be angry? In an unhappy flash of insight, she realized she didn't actually know him well enough to judge. One misstep could upset everything. But she could so use his advice. 

She leaned her forehead on one hand and tried to think. Maybe she could talk to him anyway, without revealing anything.

"Thor, what if I can't find a way to send you back to Asgard? You'd have to stay here until they came to get you, wouldn't you?"

He assumed she was simply insecure about her work. "Jane, I _know_ you'll find a way. I've known that about you since first we met." He smiled against her temple. "Nothing has been able to stop you from searching out the stars, not the theft of your research tools, not even the destruction of the Bifrost. My brother's silence is a minor obstacle compared to what you have already faced."

She smiled back weakly, blushing a little. "Thank you. Really, I - it's so strange to have someone believe in me after being considered a scientific laughingstock basically my entire career. Even Erik doubted me sometimes. But I meant - you can't travel back on your own. You have to wait for Odin to conjure you or for the Bifrost to be rebuilt?"

"Yes," he said, with a note of uneasiness.

"How long do you think it will take?"

"I don't know. I've come to fear that it may never happen."

"What?" she said, shocked. "But why wouldn't they rebuild the Bifrost?"

He had grown tense in her arms. "I have considered this ever since we were cast back down to Midgard. At first, I thought Father might not have had the ability to conjure both us and the Tesseract at the same time - it is an immensely powerful and unpredictable object, and even transporting me without the Bifrost was difficult. Naturally if he felt his grasp on us slipping, he would have brought the Tesseract back first, even if he had to let us go to do it."

"But if Odin had the Tesseract..." It was so obvious, she should have thought of it before, but she'd been so busy with her own problems.

"Yes. He could have rebuilt the Bifrost and brought us home in an instant. There would be no reason for this delay."

"What do you think happened?" She could only come up with unpleasant scenarios herself.

"He may have fallen into the Odinsleep again. It has been happening too often of late. But I fear it's equally possible that someone else may have intercepted us and taken the Tesseract."

Jane nodded, chilled. She could guess that only someone incredibly powerful could achieve that. "If that's true, at least they haven't used it to attack us."

"Not to attack Midgard, no."

Of course. The Tesseract was dangerous enough to present a threat even to Asgard. Whoever had it could do just about anything.

"So that's why you'll let Fury..." She didn't finish the sentence.

Thor growled. "I should stop him, Jane. In Asgard, even the vilest - " He shook his head. "I should stop him, but fear has made me weak. There's trouble in Asgard, I know it in my heart. I must get home."

She held him tight. "No, you're not weak. It isn't your fault. And you're right - I'll find a way. No matter what it takes. That's what I do."

"Thank you, Jane," he whispered.

She tried to lighten the mood a little. "Can I come to Asgard with you, when you go?"

He gave a low laugh. "No mortal has ever set foot in Asgard, Jane... but if you'll do us the honor, I'll see to it that you're the first. Deal?"

"Deal."

***

Even with her resolve strengthened, it took a week before Jane could bring herself to sneak back down to the cage. She’d woken suddenly a few hours before dawn and, unable to fall asleep again, pulled on shoes and a jacket on impulse. A tight knot of dread stayed in her stomach all the way there. She had to wait ten minutes, heart pounding, for a night patrol to pass; one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s new security measures. There'd been some discussion about whether to post guards at the cage itself, but Fury was of the opinion that it might cause more harm than good - they could be susceptible to Loki's tricks.

When she entered, Loki seemed to be asleep. He lay with his head on the table, not stirring as she walked around the perimeter of the cell. 

“Loki?” she said. 

There was no reply. She took a step closer. The hand pinned down by Mjolnir was bloodied as if he’d been tearing at it, dull dried flecks splattered on the surface of the table. His chest rose and fell very slowly.

Her stomach twisted even harder. Maybe if she just left right now, she could come back another time, pretend she hadn't been here, pretend nothing had happened - 

But that would only be putting off the inevitable.

She hoped he was only sleeping and not in some kind of coma. If whatever S.H.I.E.L.D. was doing actually knocked him out for significant stretches of time, it would take even longer to get the information she needed, and this whole ugly business would drag out forever. She bent down to get a better view. His cheeks looked hollow and his mouth sullen, as if he was dissatisfied even in sleep. The scar on his chin had faded away entirely, though some of the bruises remained. Other than that, there was no sign of any injury, nothing fresh or recent. Not that she'd really expected anyone to try simply punching him in the face until he talked. It would cause a lot more damage to their hand.

He opened his eyes, making her start. They looked through her, unfocused. This was the closest she'd been to him without being terrified; she hadn't realized how nearly colorless his eyes were before. Pale like water and deceptively clear. 

The fuzzy wan gaze sharpened into ice and he said, "So you've come. I thought you might not."

He sat up slowly and she retreated to her usual safe distance. 

"I said I would. We have a deal, remember?"

"Yes. A deal," he said mechanically. Then nothing.

Jane fidgeted. "Are you... all right?" It wasn't entirely a platitude; she had no idea what exactly S.H.I.E.L.D. had done or how it had affected him.

He spoke slowly, deliberately. "I've been chastised. It seems I underestimated Midgardians somewhat. Especially the women." His expression hardened into cold rage. "You knew, didn't you? Last time. That's why you kept turning those big, sad eyes on me. Do you feel sorry for me, Jane Foster?"

"I - " Jane bit her lip. She couldn't seem to find words. It wasn't fair that she was expected to justify herself.

"Of course you knew, this was all planned from the beginning. First your dour comrade and her minions to soften me up, then you, you coming in here with your pretense at innocence, as if you weren't part of this at all - first the pain and then the salve - did you _really_ think I wouldn't catch on?" He was shouting, breathless.

"No!" she protested, shocked. He thought she was playing the good cop to Natasha's bad one? "It's not like that, there was no plan!"

Loki laughed a little hysterically. "And always the beautiful women. What does Fury take me for?"

"Are you actually insane?" Jane said, her own voice rising to a shout. "That doesn't even make sense! You're the one who contacted me, you're the one who wanted this bargain in the first place. It was your idea!"

He seemed thrown a little by that. "You could've - you would've known that I'd - "

"What, known that you would set up a secret meeting with me through a single veiled reference in conversation? What kind of stupid circuitous plan would that be? I'm not here on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s orders!"

She had apparently struck him speechless. He stared at her, wild-eyed, gasping with emotion.

"But you knew," he said, more quietly. "You knew, last time you were here you - "

"Yeah. I knew because I was there when they decided to - use force. S.H.I.E.L.D. wants to speed things up because of the attack, since you haven't been talking. From their perspective."

"And you agreed to that!"

The accusation struck right at the heart of the pangs of conscience she'd been having. "It wasn't my decision! And what do you think would've happened if I'd objected?" And why should it be her responsibility to do so?

"So you didn't, then."

"No," she admitted. "But Thor did. He really did. He was the only one. He's a better brother than you deserve."

His laugh was hoarse this time, but empty of force. "He's not my brother. And if Thor wanted to help me he could do it at any time. No one here could stop him."

She had to convince him he could trust her. It was even more important now that Thor had told her his fears about Asgard. 

"Loki, listen to me. I _swear_ to you, I'm not in on it with S.H.I.E.L.D., I'm not trying to trick you or manipulate you. I don't make the decisions around here. I don't even like them very much, OK? All I want is the information so I can send Thor home and you - wherever you want to go. I promise. And I'm sorry, I'm sorry about - _this_ " - she indicated the cage with a wave of her hands - "but the faster we do this, the faster you'll be gone, right?"

"You really mean it," he said slowly. "You really do pity me."

"Does it matter so much to you?"

He studied her. "I suppose I'll have to endure it. That, and other things." He swallowed. "Since I have very little choice at the moment. Do you have any water?"

"I'll get some." There was a mini-fridge in the comp lab. 

When she got back with a bottle, Loki had composed himself again. He drank the water down in one long swallow and turned tired, shadowed eyes on her. "Write everything down," he said. 

He spoke to her about magic and she noted it all down diligently until dawn came. Only after she'd left the cage did she realize that she'd been sitting across from him at the table as if they were colleagues, within easy reach, and neither of them had noticed.


	6. Shatter an Illusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for reading, commenting, kudosing, reccing, and bookmarking! You guys are the best.

Days rushed by in a blur as Jane focused all her energy on solving the problem. Numbers danced in her head day and night; she would toss and turn in bed, mind churning pitilessly until it finally exhausted itself enough to allow her a few hours of light sleep. Then she'd wake again with a bevy of new questions and run down to the cage to ask them. She didn't always succeed in getting in anymore; security had tightened, including brief random checks on Loki carried out by actual humans, usually led by Agent Hill. It had made her worried about being discovered at first, but she soon grew used to them - and stealthy enough to avoid them. 

The first time a random patrol walked in on her with Loki, she almost shrieked, scrambling hopelessly for excuses, justifications, defenses, anything to explain her presence. But Loki's hand tightened on her forearm to the point of pain, making her gasp instead. He gave her a warning look and said, "How nice to see you again, Maria. Not coming in this time?"

Hill flashed him an annoyed look and didn't reply. She didn't react to Jane's presence at all. With a rush of relief, Jane realized Hill couldn't see her; Loki had hidden her with his magic.

When Hill had left, Jane said, "Can you teach me how to do that?"

Loki rolled his eyes. "Do you want all my secrets, mortal? I could, but I won't."

She let it go; the teleportation problem was taking up all her mental energy anyway. She was making progress, very good progress, especially when it came to practical aspects of the theory. Current computer and energy technology should actually be able to harness the probability field. The fact that space-time wasn't being manipulated obviated the need for the massive power sources that something like an Einstein-Rosen bridge would require, which would certainly make the project physically - and financially - much more feasible. 

The main theoretical issue she hadn't been able to approach at all was that of limiting the probability field to something mathematically manageable. The potential positions, characteristics, and interactions of the subatomic particles making up a person simply represented an inconceivable - and ever-changing - amount of information. Loki had been little help in this respect, merely looking at her as if she'd grown an extra head when she talked about whether quark spin was a relevant factor that needed to be included. But she soldiered on with what she could.

The work kept her so busy, in fact, that she had no time to think about Asgard or S.H.I.E.L.D. or what Thor might think or anything else. Even through the tunnel vision of her research, however, she couldn't help but be disturbed by the effects of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s parallel investigations. If Natasha hadn't reported to her every time another attempt at interrogation failed, she still would have been able to tell when they were scheduled. Afterward, Loki was always grim and tight-lipped, eyes shining with pain. He bristled at her whenever he thought she was trying to show a bit of compassion, but somehow that made it even worse. 

Much as she tried to stop, she couldn't help feeling sorry for him. She reminded herself of the destruction he'd caused, the people he'd killed - even looked up the names of the victims of his attacks. Herbert Schlünken, Katherine Darnley, Sarah O'Keefe, Dwayne Brown, Phil Coulson, she repeated to herself whenever she had the urge to laugh at something he said or admire some exploit he was telling her about in the course of explaining how the magic worked. 

Yet the names remained frustratingly abstract, swept away by the living, breathing presence of the person in front of her. And he had presence - he was turning the full force of his charm on her. She knew he must be doing it on purpose, but that didn't mean it wasn't working. She found herself thinking that if only he hadn't killed so many people, she might possibly like him. He was profoundly unpredictable, incredibly ancient and experienced, but strangely emotionally frail. The odd cocktail of his personality fascinated her. 

She began to resent S.H.I.E.L.D. a little more every day. She couldn't believe how brutishly incompetent they were. Weren't these people supposed to be professionals? The absolute top of the heap? Masters of spycraft and surveillance and information-gathering, funded with obscene amounts of taxpayer money? Yet here she was succeeding where they failed, right under their noses - and with no one the wiser. Best of all, she'd gotten what they needed _without_ having to resort to torture. The more quickly her work advanced, the more trigger-happy and misguided S.H.I.E.L.D. seemed to her. She was going to have everything worked out before they even noticed. And then - 

And then her thought process floundered. Part of her knew that going back on the deal and sending Loki to Asgard after all was still the smartest thing to do, but an increasingly insistent part was rebelling against the plan. He had grown so weak, so isolated - no allies, no powers except his illusions left, and what could those really do? With the Avengers protecting Earth, he could hardly be a threat even if he did come back. And who knew what was waiting in Asgard - what was happening in Asgard?

Most of all, she felt a recurring need to prove - to herself if no one else - that she wasn't S.H.I.E.L.D. Just because she was working with them didn't mean she had to obey them. Or approve of everything they did. She knew more about the science, more about Loki, quite likely more about Asgard than any human, and that put her in a better position to make decisions about all three of those topics. 

Her work and her secrets consumed her until she barely noticed the other people passing through her life. Only Thor felt real and immediate - an anchor, a beam of sunlight breaking through storm clouds. As for the others, she barely spoke to Agent Hill or Steve Rogers, and she found herself snapping at Natasha whenever they met. The woman who had seemed so cool and glamorous when she'd first arrived on board now gave her the creeps. How could Natasha retain that porcelain calm while doing - what she was doing? She informed Jane twice a week that the torture had failed again and sounded like she was saying that they'd run out of milk.

When a little wrinkle began appearing between Natasha's brows whenever they spoke, Jane knew that the agent had noticed her new-found hostility. After that, Jane avoided her as much as possible; she didn't want Natasha wondering why Jane suddenly disliked her and catching on that she was hiding something. Worse, Natasha might get the idea that Jane was the security breach - she was perceptive, and it was far too logical a conclusion based on the evidence. 

Tony Stark, meanwhile, presented a whole different set of problems.

Normally, Jane would have been thrilled to have _Tony Stark_ interested in her research - even if he was kind of a dick - but now it made her nervous. If anyone was going to notice that she was making discoveries much too quickly, it was him. Unfortunately, he seemed deeply curious about what she was doing, hunting her down at the most random times and places to ply her with questions.

It was a few weeks after the night-time attack when she found him lounging at her workstation, browsing through her files. 

"Hey!" she said, running over and covering the screen with her hand. "What do you think you're doing?"

"This is _fantastic_ ," he said, completely unabashed at being caught snooping. "I think you've invented metaphysical statistics _and_ probabilistic dynamics. Can't remember the last time I had this much fun reading theoretical math."

"How did you get into those?" She tried not to sound panicky. There was nothing incriminating, but she didn't want S.H.I.E.L.D. to find out how much she'd done, and if Tony could break in, they might be able to as well. 

"Hacked it. Good encryption, though. Took me only 30 seconds less time than breaking into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s computer system. A gold star for the loveliest astrophysicist on board."

He gave her a look too appreciative to be respectful, too friendly to be a leer. She took him by the shoulders and removed him forcibly from her chair, which he accepted with passive good grace. 

"Those are private," she said. 

"That's some damn brilliant work. How old are you? Don't tell me. Thirty? Youngest Nobel Prize winner since the 19th century, right here."

In spite of her annoyance, she could feel herself blushing from neck to hairline.

Stark noticed, all right. He grinned. "Don't worry, that happens to everyone. I'm very charming. So, why the hardcore encryption?"

She'd prepared this excuse in advance, just in case. "I just don't want anyone reading it until I manage to write a paper or two. Last time I ran into S.H.I.E.L.D., they stole all my research."

"Ah, yes," Stark nodded. "They are bastards, aren't they. I mean, _tell_ me about it. Actually, I'll tell you - "

"Please don't let this slip to anyone, OK?" she interrupted. She knew Stark wasn't best friends with S.H.I.E.L.D. - he might keep the secret if he didn't have any particular reason to tell.

"My lips are sealed, scout's honor. How did you come up with this stuff so fast? Last I heard, the god of getting his ass kicked preferred more ass-kicking to talking. You did all this yourself in a couple of weeks?"

She tried for a half-smile and an embarrassed shrug. "I guess I'm... kind of a genius? Actually there's some stuff you could help me with. I mean, if you don't mind?"

That got his full attention, safely away from the topic of where her inspiration was coming from. "Hit me with whatever you got."

"I was working on the probability field manipulator yesterday and I keep running into the materials problem - once it's built, it seems like the device's own probability field will interfere with the one I actually want to affect, which belongs to the person who's going to be transported." It was really a smaller and more immediate aspect of the problem of excluding the rest of the universe as a variable.

"Hrmm. Maybe a very inert material, probabilistically? Something with very stable electron energy levels?"

Jane smiled. That had been her first idea, too. 

"I thought of that, but even a very stable material still has a structural matrix that could vary based on chance, not to mention quantum uncertainty."

"Good point."

"Unless you're planning to discover a perfectly stable new element sometime in the near future?"

"It's on my to-do list. Right below inventing time travel and actually reading the papers Pepper puts on my desk."

She laughed. "Pepper?"

"Friend of mine. Well, I say friend... You know, you could try integrating the device's field into the subject's. The calculations would be more complicated, but they're already pretty whack, so it won't make that much difference."

Now there was an idea. She felt a tingle of excitement. "You'd probably have to wear the device, then..." she thought out loud, "Which means small but powerful computing, really powerful."

"Quantum should do it."

" - and a bigger power source than I was hoping for - "

"I've got that one covered," Stark grinned. "Consider Stark Industries at your service. The temperature problems are going to be hell, though, what with - "

The conversation that followed was the most exhilarating one Jane could ever remember having. She kicked herself mentally for not seeking Tony Stark out earlier. Genius was no exaggeration. And once you got used to the stream of cheeky comments, he was actually pretty fun. It was surprisingly like hanging out with Darcy, if Darcy were a brilliant self-centered billionaire industrialist.

She didn't even notice that hours had passed until her stomach rumbled.

"Dinner?" Tony said.

"Do you usually eat here? I've never seen you around the cafeteria. Mess hall. Whatever."

He made a face. "S.H.I.E.L.D. spends too much money on guns to have any left for butter. Nah, we're about an hour from New York by Iron Man Airlines. Alain Ducasse? It's five-star."

"Are you _serious_?" She'd never been to a five-star restaurant in her life.

He shrugged. "Bit of a commute, but I promise the view's great. We can stop by the Tower and I'll get you some better encryption for those files. I'm pretty sure S.H.I.E.L.D. is fishing, so you'll want better security - for your backups, too."

"What do you mean, fishing?" Jane said.

"The lovely Agent Romanoff has been very sneakily trying to get some tech off me. She should really know better, since she worked for me... You might be next on her go-to list, even though it's not strictly speaking your field."

"Wait - _Natasha_? But she isn't on their scientific staff, is she?" Why would they send Natasha to ask for unreleased Stark tech? And had he said Natasha had worked for _him_?

Tony shook his head. "It's not for your project. You know how they're bug-zapping Loki down there? Turns out Asgardians are even tougher than we thought. Loki might be afraid of Thor's lightning, but only because it's got enough power to supercharge even my arc reactor to 400%. The stuff they're hitting him with probably feels like a nice exfoliation. Guy keeps laughing in their faces, apparently. Natasha asked me to cook up something with more juice, but - "

Tony kept talking, she could see his lips moving, but Jane didn't hear another word.

_Damn tough. A nice exfoliation. Laughing in their faces._

It had all been an act. That bastard, he'd played her like a fiddle.

***

Tony could hardly have missed the shell-shocked look on her face, but she managed to get rid of him with an excuse about the talk of torture making her lose her appetite. When he had left, she sat in front of the computer, hands clenched into fists so hard her knuckles turned white. She kept hearing Tony's words over and over in her head. _Laughing in their faces._ And seeing Natasha's confused look at her sudden coldness. And Loki's pale, suffering features, over and over.

Her face felt hot.

She got up and walked down to the cage. It was still daytime, but she didn't care. Before she went in, she put her hand against the wall, breathed, tried to compose herself. She'd already danced to his tune enough; she wanted to stay in control.

Loki looked mildly surprised to see her. He was wan and haggard, the shadows under his eyes blue as bruises.

"Why don't you drop that stupid mask?" she said by way of a greeting.

His expression didn't change. "Mask?"

"You know what I'm talking about. I know you're faking it. S.H.I.E.L.D. hasn't been hurting you at all. You're just - you're trying to play on my sympathy. Those things you said... acting like you were _angry_ I felt sorry for you - _Jesus._ " He'd used fucking _reverse psychology_ on her like you would on a two-year-old. And it had worked. 

He exhaled, slowly, painfully. He looked exhausted. "Isn't that - what was your phrase - stupidly circuitous? That I'd bother play-acting for weeks? And to what end? You'd already agreed to help me."

The fact that he was still denying it was so brazen it made her want to scream. She floundered for a retort through the buzz of her anger. To what end? "You suspected that I - " She stopped.

He'd gone very still. "Suspected that you _what_?"

"The first time we talked, you said for all you knew I was planning on double-crossing you. You never trusted me. You're playing on my sympathy to make me want to send you somewhere safe." That was it, the only thing that made sense. She knew it was true because that had been working, too. 

"My intrigues seem to be getting more and more elaborate as you tell it."

"Don't _mock_ me! I know you're faking it. Tony told me Natasha asked him for better tech because what they have can't actually hurt you. He said you just laughed in their faces when they tried."

A light seemed to dawn in his eyes. "Of course I laughed in their faces."

"What?" 

"Did you expect me to grovel? In front of that woman? No," he caught her gaze and held it, "I won't give them that pleasure."

Jane wavered. "You're lying to me."

"No. I'm lying to Agent Romanoff."

She threw her hands up in the air. "You're lying to _someone_!" 

"To her, Jane, not to you. Why would I lie to my only ally and tell the truth to my enemy?"

Even as he said it, the certainty that he _was_ lying settled on her like a yoke. He'd played her for a fool, and it had almost worked. She had seriously considered letting him escape for real, had nearly talked herself into doing it. Anger and hurt pride ate at her insides like acid until she had to spit them out at him. 

"Stop it, just stop it - don't you get it? Your game is up, I'm not falling for it anymore. You've been trying to drive a wedge between me and S.H.I.E.L.D., making me hate them and - and Natasha, because of what they supposedly did. You tried to flip me. I bet you were loving it, too, weren't you? Thinking you were tricking me behind Thor's back? Well, _I'm not fooled_." She shouted the last three words with a kind of righteous satisfaction.

But in the heat of emotion, she'd strayed within reach of his arm; in a flash he had her by the throat. He slammed her body down onto the table and pinned her there, helpless. Her hands flew reflexively to his fingers, but she couldn't budge so much as his pinky. A small sound of fear escaped her lips, but he only held her tightly enough to prevent her from getting away, not enough to hurt her or stop her from breathing.

"You should calm down," he said. "Before you make me angry. Things have been going well, haven't they? We - "

She laid her hand against his cheek, stopping the words cold. The illusion shimmered, shattered, fell away in a slide of gold. Behind it, his face was smooth and hale, not a trace of fatigue, bruising, or scarring to be seen. 

"I knew it," she breathed.

He looked utterly dumb-founded. His breath tickled her palm. She took her hand away.

He swallowed. 

"I should have realized," she said vaguely. "It's Natasha's usual play. She would never have fallen for it, no wonder you didn't try it on her. It could never have been real."

His eyes searched her face. "They didn't fail at torturing me through lack of trying. How does that make them any better?"

"Because," she said, "they're up against something so much stronger than themselves." 

His hand tightened infinitesimally on her neck. "I'm glad you understand that much, at least."

"Being stronger doesn't make you _right_."

"But it does make this so much easier. Do you still pity me? Aren't you afraid?"

"No," she said recklessly. "You still need me. No one else can get you out of here. You know it's true."

He smiled and bent down to whisper in her ear. "Since we're telling truths, tell me this one: were you ever really planning on helping me?"

"Yes," she lied with all her might.

He laughed softly. "You don't lie to the god of lies, little mortal. It's a shame you puzzled it out. If you'd only continued to believe, I would've escaped the easy way and you would've lived."

The pressure on her throat was increasing. It was getting harder to breathe.

"Thor will kill you if you hurt me," she gasped. 

She saw him hesitate, but the steel fingers on her skin didn't ease. 

"Do you think so? Do you really think he loves you more than he does me?"

And then she was afraid. 

"No," she said, "Wait - " Black spots were dancing in front of her eyes. "Please, I'll, I'll stick to the deal, I wasn't going to - "

Before she could finish, everything exploded with light. White light blazed from every particle of the room, from Loki, from her own body. The air was luminous in her lungs. Her eyes saw nothing but white on white on white, dancing, shimmering, waterfalls upon veils upon ice sheets of light. A rainbow sheen glanced off the edge of her vision. For a split second, she thought she had died and heaven was real after all. 

Then it was gone and the cage seemed dingy in contrast. Loki's grip on her throat had slackened in shock and she wrenched herself away, rolling off the table and scrambling out of reach.

"Oh my God," she said, "Oh my God. What the hell was that?" The afterimage burned on her eyelids in a rainbow riot of color. She blinked and blinked, trying to wash it away. It reminded her of something; she groped in vain for the memory. Then she caught sight of Loki and yelped in surprise.

"What?" he said. He was half-standing as if he'd tried to bolt from his chair, looking around wildly like a hunted animal. 

"You're... blue!"

His skin had turned blue. She couldn't see very well through the afterimage, but she thought his eyes were red as well. 

He looked at his blue arm and seemed to come to an instantaneous decision. He began to jerk frantically at the hand pinned down by Mjolnir, cursing under his breath. He kicked at the legs of the table, but they didn't break or move. Jane felt like she was watching a rat caught in a trap. He was going to tear his arm off.

As if hearing her thought, he made a gesture with his free hand and a knife appeared there. She gaped. Obviously he'd been hiding the fact that he still had other kinds of magic besides illusion. 

He placed the edge of the knife against the skin of his trapped forearm, then raised it in the air.

"Oh my God!" Jane shrieked, and covered her eyes. But when she dared to look, he had faltered, the hand with the knife still raised, quivering. A breath exploded out of him and he hurled the knife away and kicked the table again. 

"Well," he said, sparing her a glance. "It will have to be Plan C."

"What?!"

He made another gesture and a gun appeared in his hand. Jane cringed away, back hitting the wall, but there was nowhere to hide. 

He aimed the gun at the glass wall of the cage and fired. The bullet ricocheted violently and Jane screamed. Not even a scratch appeared on the glass. 

"What are you doing?" she yelled. "You'll kill us!" Vaguely, she became aware of an earsplitting shrieking from the helicarrier above them. It sounded like sheets of metal were being torn in half. The floor shuddered beneath her feet and a stab of vertigo made her wobble. 

He took aim again. "There's a small chance the fall will dislodge Mjolnir quickly enough for me to escape before the cage hits the ground." He fired five shots in rapid succession. 

A crack appeared in the glass. 

Jane's ears were still ringing from the retort when the floor opened under her. She stared down 30,000 feet of crystal clear sky to the placid, sunset ocean below. The wind howled, shaking the cage. He was really going to do it; whatever that white light meant, it was bad enough that Loki preferred free fall. She ran for the door. It didn't open. Her hands were shaking too much; she took a deep breath and forced them to enter the access code. Nothing. She tried the emergency exit switch, activated by fingerprint. Again nothing. She pounded on it with her fist. 

With a burst of insight, she remembered how the outer door had mysteriously been open on the night the attack happened. The incident, in fact, that had gotten Fury suspicious about a security breach. There was no end to these machinations. She whirled to face Loki.

"Let me out!"

He had conjured a bigger gun and was aiming at the glass once more.

"Please!" she said. "You might survive the fall, I won't! What's the point in killing me now? It's not like I can go tell someone you're escaping!"

He allowed her the briefest indifferent glance. But the door finally slid open.

Just as it did so, the outer door rolled back as well. Three huge blue-skinned figures stepped in - twice as tall as a man - bare-chested and grim-faced. This time she could make out the red eyes clearly. An icy cold seemed to step inside with them. She stopped, frozen on the small catwalk bridge between the cage and the edge of the room. 

Gunshots behind her made her throw herself to the ground. Loki was shooting at the giants, with no apparent effect. She cowered in the middle of the catwalk, unable to go forward or back. Now that her ears had stopped ringing, she could hear people screaming outside in the corridor. The blue giants paid no attention to her at all. 

"We have traveled a long way to find you," one of them said. He sounded smug. "But I believed capturing you would be even more difficult. How helpful of the Midgardians to do it for us."

"Then you've traveled a long way for nothing!" Loki said. "Only to watch me escape."

One of the giant blue men growled. Then several things happened at once. The giants rushed the cage; the cage dropped straight down, taking them with it; the sudden change in air pressure tipped Jane over the edge of the catwalk; a shrill whistle split the air and she saw Mjolnir hurtle past her as she fell. She made a weak grab for it, but it was far out of reach.

She fell into the sky.

It was bitter cold and the air shrieked all around her. She couldn't draw a breath. The helicarrier was above her, then below, then above again; she was tumbling end over end. She saw the cage falling beneath her, giants clinging to it, one of them inside and wrestling with Loki. A brilliant flash of light seared her eyes; when she could see again, the cage was gone, and she was falling alone. The red ocean sparkled with failing sunlight in an endless sweep below. It was beautiful. She didn't feel cold or frightened, only bone-tired. Her eyes drifted shut. 

Something hard wrapped itself around her middle, braking her descent. Gradually, the fall slowed and became controlled, until it was a flight rather than a plummet. Jane found she could suck air into her lungs again - and think. As her head cleared, she realized they had come low enough for the atmosphere to be breathable again. In a trade-off, she could now feel the terrible cold more keenly. The helicarrier had been cruising over the North Atlantic, and she was wearing only a t-shirt and jeans. 

Someone had caught her. The arm around her waist was a metallic red. She twisted to see. 

"Tony!" she said. The wind tore the words away, but apparently the Iron Man suit still detected the sound.

"Hey," the robotic helmet said. "Funny hobbies you have. Hanging out with psychopaths, jumping out of air-borne vehicles."

"They got him!" she shouted into the wind. "Those things took Loki! I have to tell Thor. We have to go back!"

"Negative on that. Look behind us."

He helped her shift until she could see back over his shoulder. 

The helicarrier was sinking down through the atmosphere in a long, majestic, inevitable slide. All the lights had gone dark. She could just make out a few planes taking off from the surface. 

"What h-happened?" she screamed. 

"Power completely gone. That white light," Tony said. "Don't know what it was, but it shorted out every last thing run on electricity in the place."

"S-shouldn't we go back? What about the p-people?" She was shivering violently. 

"Honey, if we go back up there the only question is whether you'll die of hypoxia or hypothermia before we make it somewhere with oxygen and heat." There was no trace of his usual humor in his voice. "Not to mention the place is going down, if you hadn't noticed. We're finding the closest land and dropping you off."

"I'm sorry," she said. If he wasn't stuck saving her, he could be off helping a lot more people.

"Don't worry, they've got lifeboats. I don't _think_ those run on electricity."

Icy numbness stole over her limbs, accompanied by a heavy feeling of failure as she watched the helicarrier's descent. Thor was there, somewhere; she'd seen the hammer, he had it back and that meant he could fly. She hoped fervently that he was all right, but realistically he was probably in better shape than she was. Most likely saving people. The thought brought a spark of warmth to her heart. But all her work was there too, crashing into the sea.

The fall seemed to take a long time; the colossal metal structure finally struck the water just when it reached the limits of her vision. It was too far away for the sound to carry, but she could still make out the huge, white-tipped waves the crash whipped up. They made momentary silhouettes against the starlit sky, and then subsided.

Afterward, she watched the stars instead, like she always did, and thought of nothing.


	7. A Chill in the Wind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always - thank you to everyone who has been so kind as to read, comment, and rec this story!

"... an isolated event. I can't emphasize enough that we're in no danger of attack by the frost giants. The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division is fully on top of the situation," Captain America was saying on the television. A caption identified him as a "Spokesman for S.H.I.E.L.D." They were really bringing out the big PR guns, and no wonder: the media coverage of the helicarrier crash was pure carnage. Jane had spent the whole morning watching program after program profiling the agency and its apparently lengthy list of fuck-ups, from failures to prevent superhuman attacks to brazen circumvention of international treaties and human rights accords. Even something about an attempted nuclear strike on New York. 

Nick Fury was taking the fall; the press was roundly tarring and feathering him, and he'd tendered his resignation the day before alongside his second-in-command, Agent Hill. Jane suspected both of them had been forced into it, since she couldn't imagine Fury turning over the reins of his own accord. He must have lived up to his name when he got that call. The furor was so great that the agency might be shut down for good - there was even some talk of criminal charges. Steve seemed to be on every channel doing damage control.

Of more immediate relevance to Jane, with Fury out it seemed the Avengers Initiative was out with him. Which meant that Thor had no reason to be anywhere but here. And yet, he wasn't. 

She finished another mug of tea, the fourth already that day. She couldn't seem to warm up after that desperate, frigid night flight over the Atlantic. She changed the channel; a picture of Loki standing on Stark Tower in full horns-and-armor now covered the entirety of the huge TV screen (Tony Stark did _not_ skimp on tech) with the caption TERRORIZER OF NEW YORK ESCAPES. It was followed by footage of Loki's attack on Manhattan. She could make out Thor barreling through a wedge formation of Chitauri in the recording.

She jumped up and began to pace, a fresh mug in hand. 

"You're going to wear out my floor. Don't think I won't bill you," Tony said, coming in the door.

"It's been two days already. Are you sure he'll come?"

"He'll show up here eventually, count on it. Where else is he gonna go?"

"I've got to teach that boy to use a cell phone," Jane muttered under her breath.

"So," Tony said, sitting down on the sofa. "Any luck?"

The suite of rooms he'd given her was amazing - huge, elegantly furnished, with a balcony and a postcard view of Manhattan. She'd spent roughly an hour thanking him, then covered every available surface and a good deal of the walls and windows with paper. It was everything she'd been able to remember of her research in the last two days.

"I got the big stuff, the stuff you don't forget," she said, "but all the details - the program I wrote, the results from running it, all that useful practical data, it's gone."

"It's a set-back," Tony admitted, "but at least you know the ground you need to cover."

"Yeah," she sighed. "It's just so frustrating." She hated doing the same work twice. "And now I don't even have - "

"Don't even have?" Tony prompted.

On more than one occasion, she'd been on the verge of telling him how she'd gotten so far. He obviously suspected, and she was aching to get the secret off her chest. But it seemed wrong to tell anyone before Thor. 

A blur of silver and red hurtled past the windows. Think of the devil.

"Thor!" Jane shouted. "Ow!" She'd spilled hot tea on her hand. She put the mug on the coffee table and ran out onto the balcony. 

He circled the building - she could hear the whistle of Mjolnir recede and return - and landed next to her. Before she could say another word, he enveloped her in his arms, hammer still in hand. 

"I always arrive later than I intend," he said. "Can you forgive me yet again? Captain Steve required my assistance. Are you well, Jane?"

"Brilliant, now that you're here." She was grinning like a fool. "Is that what I think it is?"

In his other hand he held a laptop.

"Yours," he said, placing it in her hands with a smile. "I was able to rescue it before the flying fortress crashed."

Most of the data from her simulations was backed up on the hard-drive, along with the code for the program and all her notes. She hugged him again, fiercely. 

"You," she said, "are a perfect being."

He looked like a very contented cat. 

"Aren't you two the cutest," Tony said from the door of the balcony. "Come inside before all of New York sees how cuddly Earth's mightiest heroes are."

"But you are truly well, Jane?" Thor said. "None of the giants touched you? Their touch can freeze metal."

"I'm fine, just got a little shaken up. But they got - they took Loki. It sounded like they came looking for him specifically."

"Yes." His voice turned grim. "They seek revenge. They won't trouble Midgard any further now that they have him. I _cannot_ believe I allowed them to steal him from under my nose! They will have a savage punishment in store for him, I have no doubt." 

He sounded more agitated than Jane had heard him since he'd first fallen to Earth as a mortal. It was hard to believe that the man who had almost strangled her to death could inspire that kind of loyalty - that kind of anguish. Loki must have been different, once.

"At least he is not completely defenseless," Thor continued. "He still has his armor, and his sorcery now that he is free."

Jane's stomach dropped. "Armor?" She'd forgotten all about it, tucked away behind a file cabinet somewhere in the ocean now. "Is that - important?"

"Yes." Thor frowned. "Jane, what is it?"

Tony was watching her with rather more sharpness.

She took a deep breath. "There are some things I need to tell you. Tony, could you...?"

"Oh, fine, send me away for the good stuff." But he shrugged in resignation and left them alone. 

Finally letting go of all those secrets felt so good that she didn't even mind so much when Thor's face clouded over as she spoke.

***

Two hours later, Jane had an ache between her brows and it was Thor who was wearing a groove into the floor.

"Tell me you understand," Thor said. 

"I do," she said. "I really do. It's not like I wanted to do it. I just couldn't think of another way."

"No," he said, shaking a finger vaguely in her direction, "no, I see that you don't understand at all. Loki is _dangerous_."

"Yeah, I noticed that when he invaded my planet, Thor."

"No, I mean he is dangerous to _you_ , Jane. You, personally."

A chill ran down her spine. "You mean because of... you and me. Yeah, he mentioned that. Once or twice."

Thor stopped pacing and gazed out the balcony windows. "He has been nursing his resentment against the both of us since last I was in Midgard."

"What? Wait - you told him about me?" 

"No. He saw you through the Destroyer's eyes and - I am not always sure how my brother knows what he does, but when I returned to Asgard, he knew I had been with you. I think he blamed you for... the change in me."

The thought that Loki had known she existed for months before they'd met turned her stomach. She really didn't want to consider what kind of thoughts he'd had about her. It was strange, so strange to imagine that an alien being she had never met had known who she was and despised her, all because of the handful of days she had spent with Thor. Sometimes it felt like her life had blown up to an epic scale the day she'd met him.

"Well, he's gone now, isn't he? And he didn't end up doing anything to me."

"Did he not? You lied to me for weeks, at his instigation. He has turned you into a liar, just like himself."

The words felt like a slap; her cheeks burned. She wanted to sink into the floor from shame. If only he wouldn't look at her like that. "He didn't turn me into anything. It was only this one time, this one situation. Because it was necessary."

"And why could you not tell me? Was I not to be trusted?"

"I thought you wouldn't let me do it," she said. "I thought you'd try to stop me. Tell Nick Fury, or go in there and - I don't know. But I'm right, aren't I? You would have stopped me."

"Yes," he admitted. "Because it was foolish. You didn't know what you were doing."

"Yes, I did," she said, feeling a spark of anger in the midst of her guilt and mortification. "I took a risk, it paid off. You may not agree, but that doesn't make me some stupid, helpless child."

"Compared to Loki, you _are_ helpless. And a child." He gave her a look that was equal parts turmoil and tenderness. "Do you have any idea how small and fragile you are? How you people manage to live even as long as you do amazes me."

Well, that certainly cut her down to size. She knew what he was saying was right, logically, but it felt wrong. The fact that Loki and Thor were a thousand years old with the powers of demigods didn't make her a child, it just made her... mortal. Faster-living. Quicker to die.

This was turning into a depressing day.

"And now there is mistrust between us," Thor said, more softly. He leaned his fist against the window, his forehead against his fist. "Loki sows lies and discord wherever he goes. I will - when I get my hands on him again - I will not forget this." His voice dropped until she could barely hear it. "He wishes to destroy everything that is mine, but you, you he will not have. Never you."

"I think I'll stay my own, thanks," she said, getting up and joining him by the window. It had begun to rain in a gentle gray whisper. 

"As you wish, of course." He smiled. "But may I borrow you a while yet?"

She took his hand. "Hey, I've got nothing but time." For him, it was true. 

He kissed her fingers. It made her blush, like it always did. 

"Then will you help me for a short time longer, Jane? I must go to Jotunheim. He is still my brother, and I cannot leave him in the hands of those beasts. They are barbaric, and he is alone and poorly defended. I must finish the task my father laid on me and return Loki to Asgard."

She wondered if she would ever understand their relationship. It seemed much more sensible to her to simply leave things as they were now. But she knew Thor would never let go. Since he had been back with her, he hadn't wavered even a little in his fixation on bringing Loki home.

For her part, she had plenty of reasons for sticking with the plan. "Oh, you couldn't tear me away from this stuff now," she said. "I'm building that teleporter whether you use it or not."

"I should know better than to think anything could stop you," he said, giving her a brilliant, slow smile. His eyes were a blue the sky wished it could be. Maybe it was that blue in Asgard. "Please, do me one more favor?"

"Name it," she said. She owed him one after how well he'd taken this. 

"Don't speak to my brother again. He is not called Silvertongue for nothing. I would keep his poison from you."

"I don't see why I would want to," she said. "Besides, when would I meet him again? You're not bringing him back here, right?"

"No. But you may see him in Asgard... if you still wish to come with me to Asgard."

Her heart leaped. Over the past few weeks she'd grown more and more eager to see Thor's home. Some part of her had been afraid that her confession would change everything. "Definitely. That's one promise you're never getting out of."

"Good. It's a promise I will take great pleasure in keeping."

***

By the time evening fell, the rain had turned into a full-on summer thunderstorm.

"This your doing?" Tony said to Thor. He'd invited them to dinner up in his own suite. It was, naturally, a delectable meal in a beautiful setting, only slightly marred by the fact that the air felt a bit sticky from humidity. They'd arrived at the drinks part of the night - a lot of drinks. Jane was already more than a little tipsy.

"No, but if your flying suit requires improvement again, I can summon some true lightning..."

"Hey, don't talk shit about the suit. It can hear you. It's very sensitive."

Thor held up his hands in mock surrender. "I offer my humble apologies to your garment. I never meant to impugn its honor. It flatters you well."

"Oh, you noticed? Which part of me do you think it flatters most?" Tony rested his chin on his hand attentively.

"Your face, my friend. Most definitely your face."

Jane dissolved into giggles. "I'm keeping score," she announced. She had a pen in her back pocket, but the napkins were made of cloth. She drew a mark on her arm instead. "One for Thor, god of comebacks."

"Oh, bring it on." Tony slurred at Thor. His eyes were very bright. "You may have the ref on your side, but I'm great at winning a rigged game."

Before Thor could reply, the door to the suite opened and a lovely strawberry blonde woman walked in, quite as if she owned the place. Tony stood up. "Excellent, the other ref is here. They sure do make 'em pretty these days."

"Tony?" the woman said. Her cordial, but assessing gaze measured Jane and Thor up in an instant. "New friends?"

"Right, sorry, forgot to mention the party-crashers. Brainy, brawny, this is Pepper Potts, sole stockholder of my heart. Pepper, this is Dr. Jane Foster, astrophysicist. Her boyfriend Thor, the Norse god of thunder."

"Oh!" Pepper looked a little dazed. "Thor. Um, I've heard of you. On the news, and in the, uh, Prose and Poetic Eddas. It's lovely to meet both of you." The faintest red spots appeared on her cheeks when Thor smiled at her, but Jane could hardly hold that against her.

"Please, enhance our company," Thor said. 

"Yeah, Pepper," Tony said. He pulled up a fourth chair for her. "You're just in time to watch me drop some burns on Thor."

"Just what I always wanted," Pepper said wryly. "Is that the good Chardonnay?"

"I think it's empty. Hold on, I'll get you something else." 

"So, astrophysicist, huh?" Pepper said, smiling across the table at Jane. "Is Tony recruiting you for one of his projects?"

"Actually, he's helping me with mine. I'm building a teleporter based on the principles of Asgardian magic, it can transport people anywhere using manipulation of the statistical characteristics of a probability field - once I define the range of values - in order to force a spatio-temporal pathway to a given set of coordinates - once I define those, too - with the shortest-distance value for the original sets of coordinates." Jane frowned. She was pretty sure she'd left something out of the explanation. 

Pepper looked even more dazed. "Yeah, that sounds like something Tony would be into. Is it for the Iron Man suit?"

"No, no, it's not for Tony." Surely she'd made that obvious. "It's for Thor. He's going to Jotunheim to rescue Loki. Capture, I mean. And then taking him to Asgard. I'm going, too. To Asgard, not Jotunheim."

Pepper's eyebrows shot up. "Rescue _Loki_? Wow. Tony, are you...?"

Tony returned to the table with three new bottles. "Couldn't make up my mind. All good vintages. You pick, Pepper."

"Tony, are you doing something reckless again? Without telling me beforehand?"

"I'm always doing something reckless." He opened one of the bottles with a flourish and filled all their glasses with red. 

Pepper took a sip. "Loki threw you out the window. That one, right over there. We're on the 67th floor."

"And now he's going to the Asgardian version of maximum-security prison. The justice system works after all." He drank down a glass of wine and refilled it immediately.

"I promise you, Tony is in no danger," Thor said. "He is only helping Jane with her science. I will take care of Loki myself. Alone."

"See, Pepper, you heard the man. Tony is in no danger," Tony agreed. "The ass guardian will take care of Loki."

Jane giggled again. 

"Yes, I will," Thor said firmly.

"Don't I get a point for that one?" Tony said to Jane. 

She duly made a mark on her other arm. "We now have a tie. A slow match so far, disappointing showing from both contenders."

Thor looked puzzled. And not at all drunk, she realized. His tolerance for alcohol must be incredible. It was so unfair.

"I know Asgard's silence may make it difficult to trust in us right now, but we _can_ handle Loki. We have been fighting far more formidable enemies since before your people could smelt iron. Loki targeted Midgard because he knows he is no threat to us. Once we have him back, he and the universe will be safe from each other."

Something about that seemed off. 

"Wait, but - isn't he a dangerous criminal on your world, too?" Jane said. Loki had been so desperate not to return there, she'd assumed he had racked up a list of offenses at home before hitting the universe to do the same.

Thor shook his head. "My brother has committed many crimes, but most were not against the people of Asgard. He allowed a few giants into the city as part of his schemes - and he lied to us. That is all."

"But he tried to kill _you_ ," Jane reminded him. She remembered it vividly, the horrifying crunch of breaking bone, the unbelievable sight of him coming back to life - the final realization that he was truly who he'd claimed to be.

"Yes, but that act is mine to forgive, and I have done so."

"That makes one of you," Tony said. "So his 'many crimes' have all been against other planets, then? Less important ones like Earth, I'm guessing? I bet those frost giants have a legitimate grievance."

"They do, and I do not claim it is unimportant," Thor said reluctantly. "He tried to destroy their planet."

" _What?_ " Jane said, aghast. "You mean - with _everyone on it?_ " She thought she'd maxed out on the horror Loki could inspire in her, but this was a whole new level. Her head swam. She'd had way too much to drink. 

"It was during wartime between our two peoples," Thor said, sounding defensive. "And I have killed many giants myself, even when we had peace."

OK, that was new. "But you never tried to kill _all of them_. Right?" She really hoped she knew how he would answer that.

"No," Thor said. He looked troubled. "No, I never attempted what my brother did, and nor has any other Asgardian. It far exceeded any previous act of aggression between us in our history - it was truly monstrous, I do not deny it. Still, my people will not seriously condemn him for violence done against our ancient enemy."

"Oh, so it's a racist thing," Tony said.

"No!" Jane said. "Tony! It's not a racist thing." 

"He just said attempted genocide isn't as big of a deal if it's against someone else's race." Tony shrugged and drank another half-glass. "What would you call that?"

"Do you treat all crimes equally?" Thor asked him. "Would you not take harm caused to Pepper more seriously than to a stranger?"

"OK, leave Pepper out of this, Sparky."

"All right," Pepper said, removing Tony's wine glass from his reach. "Genocide is not an appropriate topic for after-dinner drinks. _Tony._ "

"I'm just saying - I hope you take Earth's safety more seriously than Jotunheim's. Especially now."

"Now?" Jane said. More bad news, then.

"It was just on the six o'clock news - S.H.I.E.L.D. is on ice. Complete departmental review and audit. Congress is setting up an independent committee. Which means - " Tony stole Thor's glass. "Which means the Avengers are only a scattered gaggle of freaks again. Do freaks come in a gaggle? Like geese. Rogers is about to get himself indicted for obstruction of justice. Romanoff has made herself scarce, Barton's on the outs with everyone, can't really blame him for that. God only knows where Banner is. But hey, no need to worry. You've still got Iron Man."

"And Thor," Thor said.

"Who is going home with his uncontrollable psychopathic brother as soon as he can swing a ride."

"If you have any need of me - any at all - I will return immediately. I swore to defend Midgard and I meant it."

"You make a lot of promises," Tony said. "I hope you can keep some of them."

"I will swear a true oath on it, if you do not believe me." Thor slid a long dagger from somewhere in the region of his thigh and placed it in the center of the table. Pepper jumped; Jane dropped her pen. The weapon had a wicked curve to it and a hilt covered in intricate designs.

"Is that from Asgard?" she asked, curious.

"Uh, who are you planning on cutting with that?" Tony said.

"A true oath requires the power of blood to bind it, to make it unbreakable. If you ask it, I will cut my palm and mingle my blood with yours and swear, and no sorcery in the universe will break such an oath. There's no need to fear," Thor said with a pointed smile. "It will only take a small cut."

"I dare you to translate that into science," Tony said to Jane.

"I don't know, maybe some kind of mind control via... blood sugar?" she suggested, trying to lighten the mood. 

"Magic, science, it makes no difference," Thor said. "I will swear however you like to defend this realm, even if it means my death."

But Tony had already backed down under Pepper's warning look. "It's all right, I'll take your word for it, Thor. Just make sure that prison stays maximum-security and hopefully you won't have to do any dying."

"Can we please talk about something besides Loki now?" Jane suggested. "I am so tired of that topic. Do the insults again, that was fun. I still have my pen."

Everyone agreed, and the conversation moved on; but whenever she recalled that evening afterward, she could never remember what else they had spoken about.

***

Jane fell asleep the instant she made it to bed that night. Unfortunately, tiredness didn't translate into restfulness; she dreamed of falling, endless falling in the freezing cold, and woke in the middle of the night, shaking. The rain pounded on the windows. She lay awake until dawn, repressing an urge to get up and sneak away - somewhere.

***

Even the hang-over couldn't stop her from jumping into the work again straight away. If S.H.I.E.L.D.'s labs had been paradise, Stark Tower was heaven. And after the tensions at S.H.I.E.L.D, it was practically a holiday. Between the physics laboratory, Thor, and her new friendships with Tony and Pepper, Jane felt like she could be happy here for the rest of her life. She ate, breathed, and slept her research, writing long emails to Erik when Tony got tired of listening to her talk about work.

She had been worried that her progress would stall without Loki, but in some ways things were easier. Not having to keep the work a secret was a huge relief, and having collaborators a definite improvement. Tony was incredibly helpful with the engineering; he was already making some of her ideas reality in his designs for the teleporter's processor and power source. He seemed almost as captivated by the project as she was. It felt amazing to have a colleague who not only matched her but challenged her.

Surprisingly, Thor turned out to be a lot of help as well. He had little to say about Asgardian magic or human science, but possessed vast reservoirs of knowledge about the universe. He had traveled to all the realms in Norse cosmology, and he knew their locations - a crucial bit of information considering she would need to know where Jotunheim and Asgard were if she was going to program the teleporter to take him there. She put him to work drafting star charts and explaining the Asgardian navigation system to her. The latter mostly consisted of descriptions of the branching of the World Tree, but she was getting better at understanding what the metaphors meant in mathematical terms. 

But the main problem remained hers: calculating the probability field. She worked on it day after day, forging through remote regions of mathematics like an explorer in an undiscovered country. She wrote three papers about smaller discoveries she made in theoretical math and physics, but was too busy to submit them anywhere. Still, the progress here was slowest, and more than once she came up with specific questions it would've taken minutes to ask but required weeks to puzzle through. 

Weeks turned into months and it began to grow colder. Autumn arrived in New York. Jane took more breaks from the research, going out to see the city in its fall colors. It was huge and busy, the rebuilding speeding along at a brisk pace; she liked it, but she missed New Mexico, too. You couldn't see the stars in a city of this size. 

She kept an ear attuned to the news about S.H.I.E.L.D., but it was mostly bad: Steve Rogers had escaped legal troubles, but the name of Captain America was tarnished, the subject of mockery on talk shows and graffiti alike. There had been some kind of brutal animal attack in Alaska that Thor thought was the Hulk (Tony vehemently disagreed - " _Banner has a lid on it. I'll arm-wrestle you over it._ "). Fury and Hill had disappeared from the news cycle all together. She wondered often where Natasha was, and found she missed her a surprising amount.

It was the end of October when the break-through finally came. She'd woken up late and had a groggy breakfast of coffee and Fig Newtons, then wandered into the lab still in her pyjamas. Thor was out with Tony. In the absence of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the other Avengers, the two of them had started investigating occasional supernatural conflicts and occurrences. She knew Thor wanted to be useful, to show the world that he was there to help. To make up for what Loki had done. As for Tony, he kept brooding about how many more superhumans there were than Fury had let on about. She was pretty sure he'd started some kind of database.

So the lab was quiet that day when she went in. She had been working with pen and paper last night, playing with the equations, letting them lead her through twisting, complicated trails in a jungle of abstract logic. She put her coffee mug down and paged through the ink-covered sheets. One of them was upside-down. She turned it around.

In the middle of the page was an incomplete line of symbols. Something tickled at the edge of her thoughts. She picked up the pen and added something new, from a different set of calculations.

It fit. She stopped breathing. She looked at the paper and saw through it, saw into the clean, graceful design of the universe. It was like turning a corner and suddenly the sidewalk was gone and below you was the endless sweep of the stars, dropping away into infinity. It was like falling up into an alien sky. 

Her fingers tightened convulsively on the paper. She sat down on the chair and put her forehead on the table. Her breath sounded like the ocean in her ears. She held on to that feeling, the feeling of pure and sudden understanding. She knew she might feel it only a handful of times in her life.

The coffee was cold when she got up again. She took the paper and ran to the computers, plugged the equation into the simulation programs she'd written. And the results came cascading out, beautiful, perfectly calibrated probability fields - her own, she'd used herself as the test subject - each one containing, as if by pure luck, a pathway to another planet.

***

It took another two weeks to build the machine itself, two weeks of crazed activity and delirious joy Jane would never forget. When she'd showed Tony the final simulations, he'd looked at her with genuine respect in his eyes and said only "Nice work, Foster." She'd hugged him and thanked him for everything - her life, his hospitality, his help - and tried not to cry on his shoulder.

When the device was finally finished, she held in her hand a palm-sized silver octagon. It shone with the light of an arc reactor and each of its eight sides contained a tiny quantum computer and a long, thin, color-coded button. They had only programmed three of the computers, for Earth, Jotunheim, and Asgard, but there was room for more when circumstances were less urgent. She'd finished the welding on the casing herself, had engraved a pair of dice on it in a moment of whimsy. Loaded dice, indeed. She felt like she held the skeleton key to the universe in her hand.

She walked into the circle they'd cleared in the middle of the lab and fastened the device around Thor's wrist. It fit snugly next to his armor. 

"Remember: green is Jotunheim, red is Asgard, blue is Earth," she said. "Once you have Loki, the device will need to recalibrate for about 30 seconds to adjust to a second person. Don't press the button before it lights up or you'll end up transporting yourself away without him. And don't forget to come back for me."

"I will be thinking of nothing else," he said, looking at her in a way that made her wish they were alone. 

"Well, keep an eye out for the giants, too," she said. "I hear they're dangerous."

He made a dismissive noise and winked. "Not to Thor."

"I'll see you soon." She smoothed a hand over his breastplate. 

She wanted to say something else, something more meaningful or funny. Instead, he kissed her, a fierce, ardent kiss that left her breathless. "Thank you, Jane," he whispered against her lips. "I will come for you soon. All will be well." And kissed her again.

"30 seconds, kids," Tony called from outside the circle. "Unless you want to show Jane the sights of Jotunheim."

Jane pulled herself away and stepped back out of the circle to stand next to Tony. She smiled at Thor as confidently as she could, trying not to feel anxious. There was a whole planet of frost giants waiting for him on the other side. And who knew what had been going on there all these months. Loki might be free already. He might be ruling Jotunheim for all they knew. She pushed aside her fears as hard as she could.

"All right?" she said.

Thor nodded. "All right." He raised his wrist and pressed the green button.

Nothing happened.

"Uh," Tony said. "The power's on, right?"

"It's glowing," Thor said.

"Try taking a step," Jane said. 

He did, but nothing changed. 

She exchanged a look with Tony. 

"What the hell?" she said, a desolate feeling starting to gnaw at her insides. "I checked everything, you checked everything, it was all fine, it should be fine! Why isn't it working? Let me check - "

She took a step, and the lab was gone, Thor was gone, Tony was gone. She was in a huge hall made of stone, somewhere she'd never been. She barely had time to register her surroundings when they shifted; now it was a forest, all the trees bare and burnt, then a very ordinary-looking living room, then an echoing pitch darkness. Her feet moved of their own accord, trying to carry her away, but that just made the space around her flutter and shuffle more wildly. The scenery changed like the pages of a flip-book, almost too quickly to see: beach-concert hall-glacier-stars-restaurant-places she couldn't identify-alien architectures and landscapes. She screamed for it to stop, she was going too far, she was getting lost, but she heard nothing except dead silence. It went on forever.

It went on forever, and then suddenly she tripped and fell. The dizzy fluttering of the universe stopped. Everything was still. 

The ground was hard and rough on her face - coarse frozen earth. A merciless cold wind sliced through her clothing, through her flesh and into her bones. She pushed herself, shivering, to her hands and knees. It was dark; strange rock formations surrounded her, glittering with ice. Directly in front of her was a black mountain, haloed by smoke. 

She could hear someone screaming, a hoarse, wordless sound that went on and on as if it had always been and always would be. She wrapped her arms around herself and tried not to cry. The tears would freeze on her cheeks. 

_Jotunheim_ , her lips formed the word, but no sound came out. Somewhere in all those calculations and simulations, she had made a mistake.

She looked up at the sky and saw constellations no human being had ever seen, and the tears came after all.


	8. Snake Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains a graphic torture scene.
> 
> Thanks a million, dear readers, for your continued attention and responses. <3

She was on an alien planet. For so many years of her life, Jane had dreamed of seeing another world. She had dedicated her life to it, to discovering the great _out there_ , the mysteries encoded in twinkling points of light in the sky. Even when her search had made a professional pariah out of her. 

Now she had her wish. She'd been flung out into the universe a thousand light-years from home. Alone. The cold had already numbed her hands to unfeeling lumps. The wind had blown her tears away before it could turn them to frost. Her whole body shivered in sudden, uncontrollable jerks. She had worked so long and come so far and now she was going to see another planet for the few minutes she could survive until hypothermia set in.

A hot rush of anger flooded her, anger at herself and at the unfairness of it. She had worked so hard and so quickly, with so much confidence - she'd never been more sure of anything in her life than she had been of this project. She had even tested the device by trying short trips on Earth. It had taken less than an instant to jump between floors of Stark Tower and gone smooth as butter: one minute she was in the lab, then in her suite, without even a hint of vertigo. And then she and Tony had been so careful, taking painstaking measurements and quadruple-checking every calculation of Thor's probability field. Only to have everything fall to pieces when the real moment of truth came. 

It should have worked, and the fact that fate had snatched this victory from her hurt even more than the piercing wind. Her theory had failed, her dream of seeing other worlds had been fulfilled in the worst way possible, and she was going to die here with everything she'd almost achieved crumbling into dust. She dug her fingers into the rock-hard ground in frustrated rage and screamed into the wind.

But even the hot bite of bitterness could only keep the cold at bay for a few minutes. Fear and pain quickly drove any thought but survival out of her mind. No, she didn't want to die here, she didn't care how hopeless it was, didn't care if Jotunheim was as deadly as Pluto. She was going to get back home, somehow. She was going to fix that teleporter and she was going to Asgard. She was going home to Thor if she had to walk over every giant on this planet. If the giants could travel to Earth, she could, too.

But first, she had to stay alive.

She forced herself to her feet, wrapping her arms around herself and tucking her unfeeling hands in her armpits. The wind was behind her, pushing her towards the black mountain ahead. It looked foreboding, shiny like obsidian but with a rough surface. The slope was gentle and the summit not very high, but the uncanny sheen of light reflecting off uneven angles made it look like a tidal wave of black water that had frozen solid in a sudden cold snap. 

The important thing, however, was that smoke was rising off it, and that meant heat. It might be volcanic; that would explain both the smoke and the obsidian-like appearance. She could only hope that there weren't any poisonous gases escaping as well.

She walked, hunched against the wind, holding onto her anger as if it could keep her warm. The struggle up the slope felt interminable. Her feet were cinder blocks, each step an effort that sapped her strength. She was wearing a sweater and sturdy jeans, but she might as well have been naked for all the difference they made. Her teeth chattered, but that at least was a good thing, she told herself; when the shivering stopped, she would really be in trouble. At least the slope wasn't slippery and she could manage it without falling. It even seemed to rise in ridges like natural pathways, winding their way around the mountain in long, concentric rings. They looked like the way of least resistance, so she picked one and followed it.

When she had gone a short way up the mountain, the wind shifted, blowing in her face. It carried to her ears the sound she'd heard when she first arrived - the long, garbled wail of anguish, rising and falling in irregular intervals. It also brought a hint of warmth and the smell of smoke. 

Jane stopped, wavering in agonizing indecision. Even that slight breath of heat felt like life, but deep-seated apprehension kept her rooted to the spot. That was not a sound you walked towards. It was a sound you stopped your ears to and then ran from without the remotest desire to look back. It was a nightmare you begged to wake up from. She should turn around now, do what the girls in horror films never did and _run_.

She looked back the way she'd come. There was nothing except the gleaming slope she'd climbed and beyond it, an empty landscape of plateaus, canyons, and pillars of rock, all dusted with snow, all dark and still in the starlight. There was no moon. There were no people - though considering how Thor had spoken about the frost giants, that was probably a good thing. 

She was shivering so violently now that it hurt. It was impossible to stand still. She made herself walk again, ignoring the part of her that gibbered at her to flee and following the promises of heat in the wind. As the air grew warmer, she forced herself into a run, the prospect of fleeing the cold winning out even over the horrible screaming. 

She rounded a shoulder of the mountain; in front and below her the ridge dropped off into a small valley. Smoke rose from several places on the valley floor, and more drifted out of a large cave carved into the rising ground on the far side. She slid down the ridge, coughing in the grimy air. 

It was definitely warmer, and the screaming was definitely coming from that cave. She couldn't see inside, but couldn't seem to look away. The entrance looked like a huge, dark mouth ringed by sharp stones, each one larger than a man. 

She hung back. The wailing faded and swelled again, and it seemed to her that it was a voice, not entirely mindless, but interspersed with words, so drawn out and mangled that it was nearly impossible to make them out. Despite herself, she listened with a horrible fascination as sounds and syllables repeated until she understood what he was crying.

_Father._

Her legs crumpled beneath her and she fell to her knees next to one of the smoking vents. 

"No," she whispered, "no, no, no, no, _no_." Not him, anyone but him. If the giants were so brutal and war-like, they probably had other enemies to punish. No reason some of those couldn't have daddy issues, too. No reason at all it had to be him.

But the more she listened, the more she recognized Loki's voice. The same word, over and over, sometimes too animal to be intelligible, sometimes just clear enough to sound human - to sound like him, his familiar voice that she had listened to for weeks.

She wished desperately that Thor were here. Thor was _supposed_ to be here. This was his mission and he was the one equipped to handle it. Thor wouldn't be taken down by the damn weather, Thor would fly in there and smash the giants and rescue his brother and be happy to do it. 

She didn't want Thor's mission, she didn't want anything to do with this. Loki had tried to destroy Jotunheim and now Jotunheim was destroying him. The last thing she wanted was to involve herself in that conflict. She wasn't a god and this wasn't her world or her business. The giants would probably crush her in an instant if they thought she was getting in the way of their vengeance. As would Loki, given half a chance. 

But even in that desolate place with the smoke in her eyes and the screams in her ears, the part of her mind that calculated was working. She was alone in Jotunheim. She had no idea how a giant would react if she met one, whether it could be convinced to help her or would kill her on the spot or simply ignore her. She was likely to die of exposure before she ran into one, anyway. With the teleporter still fastened around Thor's wrist back in the lab in Stark Tower, she had no way to get home on her own. And she didn't know how to survive here, didn't know anyone on the entire planet - no one, that was, except Loki, who just so happened to have the power to travel between worlds. 

If she helped him, he might take her back to Earth. If she could make him stick to a deal.

She cringed at the thought of venturing into that cave. She didn't know how many giants were in there with him. In all likelihood, she wouldn't be able to do anything to help, anyway; she could hardly fight one of them. But her only other option was to sit here in this pocket of lukewarm air until she starved to death. Unless a giant found her first. 

Jane sat still for a long time, fighting back tears of terror and exhaustion. It seemed inconceivable to get up, to take a step towards whatever abattoir was in that cave. It was only when her feet began to tingle from lack of circulation that she finally moved, pushed herself to her feet. She walked slowly, trying not to make a sound, and hid behind one of the rocks scattered around the mouth of the cavern, peering around it into the darkness.

Her eyes adjusted quickly; a dull red glow was coming from somewhere, lighting the interior. It was unmistakably warmer. She couldn't see any giants - or Loki - only the cathedral-like walls and ceiling of the cave and, further back, a huge tapering black mass of rock projecting from them. She eased her way around her stone hiding place and stepped into the shadows. 

It was so much more comfortable inside that she sighed in relief despite the ghastly echoing of Loki's screams. She waited for her shivering to stop, relaxing a bit as the paralyzing chill retreated from her body, and then slunk deeper inside, hugging the wall. 

The red light was coming from the rock at the back. As she approached, her steps slowed. It wasn't just a formless mass of rock, it had a definite shape: a sleek head and a gaping, fanged mouth. It looked like a huge snake, unmoving, made of black stone. And now, finally, she could see Loki, tied to two pillars below the snake's mouth. 

The stench of burning meat made her gag. Bones littered the floor, much too large to be human; she could see a skull at least four times the size of her own. People - things, giants - had died here and been left to rot clean away. A lot of people. 

The light, she saw, was coming from inside the stone snake's mouth. Out of its one wicked fang dripped a fiery red liquid, thick and slow like magma. Each drop fell and splashed onto Loki's body and burned a black and crimson trail down his torso and each time he writhed and convulsed and begged for his father to save him. The flesh she could smell burning was his.

Jane's gorge rose and she retched, turning away from the sight. Everything that was in her stomach came up and when there was nothing left, dry heaves racked her until she could barely breathe. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and leaned her head against the cave wall, trying to block out the sound and smell as well. It was impossible; the reality of it invaded all her senses. She fought against an overwhelming desire to turn back. 

But the longer she hesitated, the longer this would take. She swallowed, trying to push down the nausea. On legs that wobbled like a fawn's, she picked her way through the bed of bones to Loki.

He didn't see her; his eyes were fixed, staring, at the poison dripping from the snake's fang above him. It collected at the tip and hung suspended there, inevitable but not yet actualized. Then it fell and Loki heaved as if making one last futile effort to flee from the pain. She covered her ears when he screamed.

One drop of that poison would kill her, she was sure. She could hardly believe he was alive. He was bare to the waist, crisscrossed and flecked with wounds, cracked black skin over red, bleeding flesh. The pants he wore were in tatters, torn to ribbons by his own thrashing; his legs and feet were bruised and bloody not from the venom, but from the stony ground. And across his abdomen ran a long wound, not a burn but a gash, mostly healed except for where the poison had touched it.

She'd thought he was tied with ropes, but now that she was close she could see the bonds were pinkish-gray and... glistening, looped around his wrists and forearms many times and crudely knotted. They looked strangely wet and slippery. The sight of them made her feel light-headed, uneasy in a way she didn't have time to think through; she turned her eyes away, focusing on the prisoner.

"Loki?" she whispered when his screams had faded away. 

He didn't appear to hear or see her. She repeated his name again and again, but to no avail; she might as well have been a ghost. His entire being, she could imagine, was attuned only to that slow, irregular trickle of poison and the pain it brought. He couldn't fathom anything beyond his myopia of suffering.

She groped among the bones, looking for something that might function as a vessel. Her hands alighted on a broken piece of a giant's skull, bleached clean and white by time. It would have to do; she picked it up, trying not to think of the living body it had once been a part of. Steeling herself harder than she ever had in her life, she stepped in closer and held up the make-shift bowl. 

She was standing mere inches from Loki, looking down at his upturned face where he half-hung, half-kneeled between the pillars. The poison dropped into the skull. He continued to stare up at the snake's fang, oblivious to her presence. There were no screams, but there was also no human understanding in his eyes, only brute, instinctual fear. He was still waiting for the next blow to fall.

"Loki?" she said again, a bit louder. Her voice came out tremulous, a reed in the wind. "Can you hear me?" Maybe she should keep talking. If only she had any idea what to say. "It's Jane Foster. From..." From where? From Earth? From Thor? How did he think of her? "You told me things about magic, once. And about Asgard. We talked about fate a lot. You said math was a moronic way to look at the universe."

Slowly, slowly, reason crept into that ruined stare and his eyes focused on her.

"Jane Foster," he croaked, the words coming out in fits and starts. "Are you not yet dead and gone in the way of mortals?"

"It's... it's only been a few months," she said. To him it must feel like eternity.

His expression didn't change - only, she thought, because it was already entirely desolate. 

"No one," he said. "No one. Came. They must see. But no one comes."

"I'm going to let you go," she said. He didn't seem to understand. 

"I am forsaken." It was a hoarse whisper.

"I'll let you go if you take me back to Earth," she said. 

He didn't reply.

"Did you hear what I said? I said I'll _let you go_. I'll unbind you, if you take me back to Earth afterward."

"You are a strange vision," he said. 

Her arms were starting to ache from holding up the giant's skull. They wavered slightly. Loki's eyes shot back up to the snake. 

" _No!_ " he shrieked. 

"It's OK! It's OK, I've got it!" She caught the next drop. The vessel was half-full. 

His chest heaved in agitation and blood oozed more quickly from the wounds. 

"I'm not a vision," she said. "I'm Jane Foster, I came here using a teleporter. I'm going to let you go. _But not for free._ "

That, of all things, got through to him. 

"Jane Foster," he whispered. He stared at her as if he was afraid she might vanish any minute. "Jane Foster. Name your price."

"After I free you, you have to take me back to Earth as soon as you can." That was the important thing. Impulsively, she added, "And then turn yourself over to Thor and - and go back to Asgard with him. And don't kill any more people."

"Yes," he said, "yes, yes. Done. Release me and I'll do anything you ask. I will conquer the Nine Realms for you, I will steal the apples of Idunn. Anything, only free me from this."

The broken, pleading note in his voice made her already roiling stomach twist. "Just the things I asked. Earth, then Asgard, and no more killing. Deal?"

He nodded. 

Now she just had to do it. Holding the bowl in one hand and reaching the ropes with the other was going to be an awkward task. 

"Watch the poison and tell me if it's going to drip on you," she said. Not that he needed to be told, most likely.

She balanced the broken skull on one hand and stretched out the other towards his wrist. She was just about to touch the ropes when she realized what they were. Long, shiny, pinkish and wet. Not ropes at all. She jerked her fingers away as if burned, suddenly on the verge of hyperventilating. 

"Oh my God," she said. "Oh my God." She felt faint, the air cold and clammy on her skin and a distant ringing in her ears. She took deep, trembling breaths, trying to slow her racing heart. She'd almost _touched_ that. Somebody's _intestines_.

And not just any somebody. Her eyes were drawn inexorably to the mostly-healed gash across Loki's abdomen. They'd torn out his insides. They'd used his own viscera to tie him down. This was what Thor had meant when he'd called them a savage people.

She met Loki's gaze and knew that he'd seen the understanding dawn on her face. He stared up at her like a drowning man, eyes fathomless pits of vulnerability and despair, painful to look at. There was no artifice in them, only - at last - honesty, a terrible, beseeching honesty. 

She needed something sharp, a stone, a sliver of bone, anything. She scanned the ground and spotted what looked like a shattered rib. It was slightly out of reach; she waited until just after a drop of poison had fallen and then darted after the bone. She emptied the bowl of poison at the same time and made it back just in time to catch the next drop.

"Don't do that," Loki rasped. He had gone tense as a live wire, trembling all over. The whites of his eyes showed. 

"Had to," she said grimly, flexing her hand around the bone. "Here we go."

She sawed the sharp edge of the rib against Loki's grisly fetters. It broke like spun glass in her hand.

"Shit!" she said. Perhaps stone would work better, but she couldn't see any suitable ones nearby. She had nothing to cut with, not even a pocket knife.

She would have to try something more basic. Bracing herself, she grabbed the entrails and tugged, trying to pull them off. They were cold and slick and might as well have been iron - there wasn't the slightest give or movement.

Of course. She cursed her stupidity. If they were easy to break, he could have freed himself already.

"Is it some kind of magic?" she asked. "Loki?"

His eyes had fallen half-shut and his head lolled. 

"Loki! It's kind of important!" Her voice cracked with strain.

"We are not fragile," he murmured, "even on the inside."

She took that to mean it wasn't sorcery, Asgardians simply had invulnerable intestines, too. Even if she'd had a knife, it wouldn't have been able to slice through those chains. Possibly only an Asgardian weapon could do so. Or a frost giant one, since they could obviously cut him open. But she could hardly go wander around until she found a frost giant's knife.

The skull was nearly half-full again. As she stared at its baleful contents, she realized with a hammer stroke of insight that she already had something that could burn through Asgardian flesh. If the poison could dissolve Loki's skin, it could do the same to the other parts of him.

She examined the ropes of intestine again, slightly less sickened now that she had a problem to think about. The entrails were wrapped repeatedly around Loki's hands and forearms and pulled tight against the pillars. A full giant's skull of poison could be enough to eat through them... but there was no way to apply it without getting the stuff all over his hands. And while she was pouring poison on them, she wouldn't be able to stop more of it from dripping onto the rest of him.

"Jane?" Loki said. "No, you're not thinking..." His voice trailed off.

She looked back at him and he read her thoughts in her eyes yet again.

"No," he said, twisting desperately, tendons standing out in his arms as he pulled at the bonds keeping him trapped. "No, no, no, no, don't, don't, dontdont _dont_..." 

"I wasn't," she said halfheartedly, "I'm not - " She had no words to finish the sentence. Somehow the sight of Loki so helpless and terror-stricken scared her more than Loki angry and dangerous. Loki the powerful, evil demigod made _sense_. There were bad people in the world, she could deal with that. This - this just seemed to say that anyone could be brought low, anyone could be crushed into dust, twisted and turned inside out until they were unrecognizable. Anyone was at the mercy of sudden reversals of fortune, no matter how powerful they were. It might be her someday. She found she hadn't the least desire to inflict any more pain on him. The thought of it made the nausea churn in her stomach again. 

Maybe she could think of something else, maybe there was another way. There might be something sufficiently sharp and strong in the cave to break through his fetters. Or perhaps if she kept the venom off him for a while he might recover enough to conjure a knife. 

A horn sounded from somewhere outside the cave, a high, bird-like cry.

Jane jumped. "What - what's that? Does it mean - are the giants coming?"

Loki had gone absolutely still. "I shouldn't have stopped screaming," he said tonelessly. "They know something is wrong."

Then it had to be now. There was no more time to think. 

He had jumped to the same conclusion, just as quickly. "No, please, Jane - " he pleaded, but she ignored him. In one swift move, she took what the bowl had collected and poured it on the not-ropes, trying to stay as close to the pillar and as far away from his skin as possible.

"Jane, don't - !" The sentence ended in a howl of pain. Despite her efforts, the poison ran down his hand and to the soft underside of his wrist, burning the skin black and leaving bloody wounds in its wake. But it did cut through the entrails binding him, hissing like acid as they dissolved. It was working, she thought wildly, it was working, it was working - but not well enough. It hadn't eaten away enough flesh to let him break free, even after she tried yanking on the remaining length of intestine. She needed more.

Loki writhed and shrieked and cursed while she waited for more venom to collect in the giant's skull. His face was wet with tears; she couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"Monstrous bitch," he whimpered next to her ear, "She-wolf from Hel, I will murder you, I will tear your eyes out, touch me again and _you_ will know pain, you will long for something sweet as pain... " 

He wept and so did she. Tears welled from her eyes until she could barely see. They ran down her face and fell onto his ravaged skin and made him shudder from the salt and at last his raving tapered off into incoherent moans.

Her hands were shaking, which made her pouring even more sloppy; the poison ran and danced like wildfire, burning Loki's hand into a black claw as he howled and called her more vile names and begged and she sobbed and trembled and pulled at his arm until finally, finally, the seared entrails fell away and he was half-free.

She pushed him hard and he collapsed against the other pillar, no longer in the path of the snake's venom. Once more, she could do this once more, she repeated to herself, chanting it like a mantra. It seemed to take an age for enough drops to collect. Finally, she carried the skull to the pillar where Loki slumped, semi-conscious.

She heard deep, echoing voices at the mouth of the cave. Panic seized her and she poured the poison clumsily, its effects jerking Loki back into clear, horrible awareness with a full-throated scream. 

"Come on!" she sobbed, tearing at the bonds where they were not quite eaten through. There was no time to wait and gather more venom. "Loki! It's half-way gone, you have to break it!" She yanked on his arm, hands slipping in his blood. "They're coming!" The voices were echoing inside now. She didn't dare look behind her to see how many there were. 

Loki gave one desperate, violent pull and toppled over backward as the last ropes of intestine gave way. Jane had been pushing against him; she overbalanced, crashing onto the bone-littered ground beside him. He flung out one maimed arm, digging the elbow into her neck as if he meant to crush it. She struggled, and then stopped as two colossal figures loomed over them. 

"Gone?" a low voice said. 

Two giants stood not six feet away from them, watching the poison drip onto the ground.

"It is but some trick of his," said the second one. "He has tried it before." And he thrust out his arms into the empty space where Loki had been tied only moments before. They groped around blindly, passing inches above where she lay sprawled. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe; every muscle in her body was frozen, a rabbit shuddering beneath the shadow of a hawk. She was right in front of them and yet they didn't see her.

"No!" said the other. "The Odinson has escaped for true, burn his eyes. I told you something was amiss."

The second giant scanned the cave, clearly suspicious. His eyes passed right over Jane and Loki and she wanted to laugh with relief, sweet hysterical relief as she understood what had happened. Somehow, Loki had drawn on a reservoir of power that had not been burned out of him and hidden the two of them from sight. 

"Get the others," the giant said. "We must hurry and recapture him before the coward flees Jotunheim."

They went, their running feet making the ground shake beneath her. 

Jane looked back at Loki, a stupid, hopeless grin of relief still plastered on her face. His features blurred, sharpened, blurred again as tears continued to slip from her eyes. He was white as the bones they lay on, his wide, pale eyes fixed on her as if she were his sole, flickering light in the dark. His shallow breathing whispered over her cheek. He looked half-dead.

They had to get up. They had to go. But she didn't think either of them could run very far.


	9. Alchemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, lovely readers! If anyone is still having trouble reading this fic due to the problems with AO3, just so you know it's also posted on fanfiction.net: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8126969/1/The_Hangmans_Hands.
> 
> UPDATE: Have made a minor edit to the text based on some concrit (which is totally welcome, by the way!) to improve plausibility. Hope it doesn't ruin the immersion!
> 
> UPDATE #2: There is now [fanart](http://anotherfanartcorner.tumblr.com/post/25074185742/this-is-a-fanfic-recommendation-and-another-bit-of) for this chapter! Many thanks to Natnat!

Loki leaned on her so hard her shoulders ached and sweat trickled down her back from exertion. His blood was everywhere, on her skin, on her clothing, she was pretty sure some was in her hair. She was terrified that they were leaving a trail of blood for the giants to follow. But at least he was walking, agonizing step after agonizing step.

Once out of the cave, she'd turned them up the mountain, afraid that a fall on a downward slope would be disastrous. It was hard going; Loki stumbled more than once, and she couldn't hold him up if his legs didn't. The process of dragging him back to his feet was excruciating. 

At least she wasn't cold anymore. The wind alternated between freezing gusts from the plain and hot, smoky ones from inside the mountain. Even more, Loki exuded heat like a furnace. She could feel it all along her side where he pressed against her. Asgardian fevers were just as epic as everything else about them, it seemed. 

They'd been trudging up the mountain for what felt like hours and Jane's legs were trembling pathetically when Loki finally pitched to the ground next to a huge black boulder. 

"Ahh," he moaned. 

Jane knelt down beside him, wiping the sweat out of her eyes. Now that she wasn't preoccupied with putting one foot in front of the other, she could see that his hands looked even worse than they had before. The blackness had spread up his forearms in streaks like tree roots, as if the poison was still burning him from the inside. 

Gingerly, she helped him sit up against the boulder.

"That stuff is killing you," she said. "What do I do?" She really hoped he knew, because if not, this escape attempt was going to end very quickly.

"Antivenom," he gasped, glassy eyes bright. 

The dose he'd gotten when she doused his hands must have been over the lethal threshold, even after months of building up an immunity drop by drop. 

"Right," she said. "Antivenom. You take a snake's venom, inject it into a cow, then use its antibodies to make a cure. Problem: we don't have a cow."

He stared at her as if it took an immense effort to puzzle through each word. "Disgusting," he said. 

"I'm guessing there's a magical way?"

"Venom." His eyes drifted shut. "Then giant's blood, salt, smoke, and starlight. All together. And _don't_ touch it before it's finished. You'll know."

"Giant's _blood_?" she squeaked. "And _starlight_?"

She rested her head in her hands. She couldn't even make muffins; the one time she'd tried had resulted in a fire safety incident. How was she supposed to get blood from a giant? How did you even put starlight in something? "Does it have to be in that order?"

Loki muttered something she didn't catch. His breath steamed in the air in fast, irregular pants. 

"Hey," she reached out and touched his shoulder. "I could use a little more - "

His eyes flew open. "Don't touch me, mortal! How dare you touch the son of - _argh_." He gritted his teeth and his body arced backward in a spasm of pain. 

Jane flinched away. She considered him: bleeding, burned, half-naked, really rather scrawny, still contemptuous and domineering. 

"You're a pretty terrible god," she said, "and an even worse person. Son of Argh." 

She forced herself back to her feet and started down the slope again. They hadn't gone nearly as far as it had felt like; it took only a few minutes to reach the cave. She was so tired she didn't hear the voices until she was almost inside. 

Giants. A lot of giants.

Adrenaline slammed into her like a semi-truck. Heart in her mouth, she flattened herself against one of the jagged rocks at the cave's entrance. 

"What good is searching?" she heard someone say. "Loki Odinson is a sorcerer who can deceive the eye as easily as the mind. I told you we should have killed him instead of this farce. All can see that I, Brymir, was right all along."

"If you wish to go against a giant's moot decision next time, you are welcome to it, Brymir."

"It should have been the king's decision."

"Not all decisions are the king's. The moot has a right to exercise its powers."

"The moot is nothing but a puppet of demagogues - "

"You two always bicker about politics," a third voice broke in, confident and just a tad bored. "It wearies me. I have sent eagles to the king and the moot both. Meanwhile, I say we gather all the people of the nearby halls and search for the Asgardian. He is too weak to have gone far."

There were rumbles of agreement. 

"The women, too?" A new voice said.

"Aye," said the confident one. "It is their vengeance as much as ours. If we kindle rime-lights, there will be enough to stop Loki from slipping through the lines."

"Whosoever finds him should kill him," said the one called Brymir. "This will only happen again, I tell you so now. All will see that I, Brymir, am right."

"What if he is still here?" another, more timid voice said. "What if he never left this cave? He could be here with us, unseen, listening to everything we say..."

The rumbles were uneasy this time. 

"I have heard tell that Loki can conjure enchanted fires hot enough to melt stone."

"And he casts sunbeams from his hands and eats mountain giants whole!"

"He has a snake's tongue that he uses to command stones and storms and goat's ears that can hear a snowflake fall in Niflheim."

"No, no, I have seen the prisoner, he doesn't have goat's ears - "

"Idiots!" interrupted the confident voice. "Save your superstitious tales for the mead flagons. Loki is a puny coward who but hides behind the strength of others. It was Odin's power that rove Jotunheim, not Loki's, and Odin's power is finished."

"All the same, Thrym, we should call upon Skadi!"

The suggestion clearly displeased Thrym. "If you wish to hide behind the skirts of that woman again, I will not stand in your way. But _I_ do not ride with Skadi. Men!"

The assembled company gave a shout in response.

"Shall we allow the monster to run free?"

"No!"

"Shall the slaughterer of children roam at will in Jotunheim?"

"NO!"

"Then with me! For vengeance! For Jotunheim!"

Jane could feel their cheers vibrating through the rock pressed against her cheek. 

"And if Loki Odinson is skulking in the shadows listening to us, I say to him: I leave you my dagger, worm, for there is no glory in fighting an unarmed weakling. Come and take it; when next we meet, I will take it back from you and cut out your heart this time!"

Through the cheering there pealed a clang of metal against stone that left Jane's head ringing. Then the giants came stalking out of the cave, almost twenty of them. They varied in height between ten and thirty feet, all long clean limbs and broad blue chests. They moved with the grace of predatory animals and wore almost nothing, but they bore familiar weapons: swords and spears and axes in hands like wrecking balls. They whooped and laughed and shouted and at their head walked the one she thought must be Thrym, his mouth curled into a pompous smile. She slid around the rock that was hiding her, keeping it between them and herself. 

She waited until their voices faded and silence had reigned for several minutes before entering the cave. It seemed colder than before, as if the giants had brought a chill in with them. 

The piece of skull she had used as a bowl was still there. She held it under the stone snake's head, watching drops of fire fall in one by one. Bits of what she'd overheard kept repeating in her head. _Odin's power is finished. Slaughterer of children. Slipping through the lines._

It had sounded like the giant Thrym knew something about Asgard. About why Thor hadn't been able to make it back, why there had been radio silence for months. Odin's power was finished... If the giants knew something, maybe she could find out what it was. 

If only Thor were here. 

She filed the issue away for later. One thing at a time or she was going to fall down and give up right here among the giants' bones. 

When the bowl was half-full, she carried it away to the entrance. In one of the rocks at the cave's mouth stuck Thrym's dagger. He had cloven the stone nearly in two. 

She put the skull down carefully and took hold of the dagger's hilt with both hands. For a moment she was afraid it was a sword-in-the-stone type of thing where only the true scourge of Jotunheim could draw it out; but no, it slid out of the crack easily enough. The blade was as long as her forearm from fingertip to elbow. What they called a cubit in the Bible. It had a cruel glitter like starlight reflected in ice. The hilt was of worn black leather and so wide her hand could barely span it.

Well, Thrym was right about one thing: being unarmed wasn't good. He'd practically given it to her, too. She laid the knife across the rim of the skull-bowl and picked up her burden once more. 

The trip up the slope felt long again. She walked slowly, watching the liquid to make sure nothing spilled. 

Loki was sitting by the boulder where she'd left him. His head rolled toward her, his features contorted with pain.

"Took you... long enough," he said through gritted teeth.

She put down the bowl and dagger. "I didn't get any giant's blood. I saw some of them, but they left before I could try anything." God, what would she have done anyway? Even with the knife, she didn't stand a chance against a giant. It was impossible - this was all going to fail because she couldn't fight. This was why Thor was supposed to be the one to go! "I don't think I can do this," she said, trying not to stare at the blackness radiating across Loki's skin. 

She'd never seen someone die. Slow death by snake venom seemed horrible. Painful and maddening and - somehow she felt she had to stay with him, even if there was nothing she could do. 

Loki's eyelids fluttered. When he spoke, he was looking at the empty air next to her. "All these years," he muttered, "all these years." 

"What?" she said. "Loki?"

With a visible effort, he wrenched himself back to reality. 

"Use mine," he said. "Blood."

She almost threw up her hands. "Why didn't you say so earlier? I was freaking out about having to shank a frost giant!" It made a lot more sense to use Asgardian blood for an Asgardian antivenom anyway. 

She picked up the dagger. Now she needed somewhere to cut that wasn't already a mess of wounds. She couldn't exactly slice open his palm.

"OK," she said. "Just so you know, I'm about to cut you with this huge knife. Please don't headbutt me or anything." 

She leaned over him, apprehension fluttering in her stomach. He stared at the knife, dumb and uncomprehending. 

Flecks of poison had marred the right side of his face, but the left was unmarked. She set the point of the dagger against his cheek and dragged the metal down his skin as quickly as she could. 

"Argh!" He jerked away, arms striking out reflexively. His elbow caught her in the chin, knocking her backward. She threw out her hands to catch herself, then froze, wide-eyed. She'd almost ended up in the bowl of poison. 

"Beastly woman," Loki hissed. 

"I'm making your antivenom!" she flared. 

"I _know_ ," he said. " _Hurry._ "

"Don't move or I'll drop this on you." She held the bowl under his chin. Blood trickled down his face and into the vessel. When it mixed with the poison, the liquid broke into angry, roiling bubbles. She swallowed. It was doing _that_ inside his veins. 

"I should have paid you a visit earlier," Loki said thickly, as if talking in his sleep. "With the staff. Or maybe it would be better without mind control. Jane Foster. Thor's woman..." 

Her skin crawled when she realized what he meant. She backed away and put down the bowl, then wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered. Even in this state, battered nearly to a pulp and half out of his mind with pain, Loki could frighten her. 

She scrutinized him. He seemed to have forgotten her again, muttering to himself in some other language now. He looked pathetic, a total mess. If she didn't get this done, he was going to be a goner. And if she did... if she did manage to save him, he would get better and all his strength and his powers would return and he could snap her neck and prance off into the universe no matter what he'd said while he was under the poison. Even if he did keep to his word, she realized with a sinking feeling that she hadn't made him promise anything specifically related to _her_ \- only not to kill people in general. That left a whole range of creative possibilities, and if his fevered rambling was any indication, he'd clearly thought of a few before. It was just the sort of technicality Loki would love. 

But the blood had given her an idea. There had been a dinner party, it felt like years ago now. What had Thor said? A true oath, a blood oath, a way to make a promise unbreakable. Not by any sorcery in the universe, those had been his words. She didn't know if there was anything more to it, but it was the only way she could think of to turn the leverage she had right now into a permanent advantage. 

"OK," she said, making up her mind. "Listen up. I'm going to make this antivenom for you, but first you're going to swear me an oath. A blood oath. You got that?"

She couldn't tell if he'd really understood. He was watching her with a vague, dreamy expression. 

She took the dagger again and sliced it along her own cheek. She gasped; it hurt like _hell_. Tears sprang to her eyes. It was stupid, this was nothing compared to what Loki must be feeling. Pathetic mortal, she could almost hear him saying. 

She leaned over and took his face between her hands and pressed her bleeding cheek to his. "Swear that you will never harm me," she whispered. "By action _or_ inaction. Or I will leave you to die here, right now, in horrible pain."

His breath rasped harshly in her ear. "I swear... I swear it. I won't harm you or let you be harmed."

"Ever."

"Ever," he echoed.

There was nothing, no feeling of power or flash of light or moment of magical insight. She had no idea if it had worked.

It was the best she could do, and time was running out. She pushed him away and turned back to the antivenom. At least the salt was easy. Her eyes were still watering from the pain of the cut. She let the tears fall into the mixture. Where the drops touched it, the liquid's consistency changed, tiny crystalline formations radiating out from the impact point - it looked like water just on the verge of becoming ice, not quite solid yet. The color remained a spectrum of reds and oranges: frozen flame in a bowl of bone. 

That left smoke and starlight. She carried the skull back down to the smoking vents by the cave and held it over one of them, low down to get as much exposure as possible. Wisps curled over the surface of the mixture and it slowly turned as dark and glossy as the mountain itself. Black ice, the kind that could kill if you skidded onto a patch on asphalt.

Now for the starlight. The sky above was certainly spangled with them. She held out the bowl uncertainly, feeling rather foolish. It was bright enough to see, so starlight must be hitting the bowl already. But nothing was happening.

She turned the skull around and around, changing the angle. As she did so, the smoothest part of the iced-over surface caught the reflection of a single blue-white star. Ripples of color again spread out from the reflection point, changing the mixture from black to a cool white, like fresh snow. It looked so soothing and clean her fingers twitched with the desire to touch it. 

" _Whoa_ ," Jane said aloud, momentarily forgetting everything else. She'd known some chemists in college who would go bananas over this. Stellar irradiation in pharmaceuticals. 

When she made it back to the boulder, Loki's eyes were closed. One long tendril of poison had grown past his forearm and up his bicep. Her heart lurched for a moment until she saw that he was still breathing in rapid, if shallow gasps. 

The antivenom felt deliciously cool when she dipped her fingers into it. She started on his right hand. There was almost no unburnt flesh; only the tips of his fingers and a section of his palm were whole. When she smoothed some of the mixture on his skin, he gasped and his fingers flexed in her hand. 

"Relax," she said. "This is going to take a while."

The right hand took the longest; she did the left one next, figuring that those were the worst bits. Then she moved on to the scores and burns and gashes all over his torso. She could feel his muscles relaxing under her fingers. His skin was still hot, but his breathing had slowed from its feverish pant to something more even. He watched her through half-lidded eyes without speaking the entire time, but she was too sunk in concentration to care. 

Last of all, she smoothed the final dabs of the mixture onto the burned spot on the right side of his face. His expression had lost its febrile, agitated cast, but his eyes still looked too bright.

"Thank you," he said.

"Oh," she said, suddenly awkward. "Um. You're welcome."

It was done. She put down the bowl and exhaled a long, slow breath. She was overwhelmed with relief, mingled with a kind of disbelief that she had actually done it. Some part of her had almost believed she was going to be trapped in a nightmare of poison and desperation forever. That none of this was real, only some kind of never-ending purgatory.

She sat down next to Loki with her back against the boulder.

"They're looking for us," she said. "Putting together search parties. We need to go."

He didn't reply.

Her muscles felt like water. She closed her eyes. A few minutes wouldn't make any difference, she told herself even as she felt sleep pulling her down into unconsciousness.

***

Jane slept for hours without dreams or disturbances. The music of horns woke her. It rang up the sides of the mountain, high and low notes interweaving and overlapping like a tapestry, a ray of sunlight breaking into her sleep. She jerked upright; she'd been lying curled up on the stony ground. It was still dark, the stars above unchanged. Loki sat next to her, his eyes closed. He opened them when she stood up.

"Jotuns," he said. 

"A lot of them," she said. "I overheard some of them talking in the cave. They're bringing everyone who lives around here out to hunt for us. Also some lady named Skadi."

He barked a laugh. "Skadi. Of course."

"Do you know her?"

"She's the one who bound me." Slowly, leaning heavily on the boulder, he climbed to his feet. "The White Huntress of Jotunheim. They always appoint her to do what they're afraid to."

"There was also someone named Thrym. He seemed like the leader."

"It's Skadi we should worry about." He looked down at her from his superior height, lucid and keen once more. "That cut will scar."

Her hand flew to her cheek, now encrusted with dried blood. It ached, but not to an unmanageable degree. "It's not deep."

"It was a blood oath. They always scar."

So it had worked. She couldn't suppress a small smile of triumph.

"Yes," he said. "Clever. Now I have to keep you alive."

"Seems fair enough, considering I've been keeping you alive."

"So you have. Why are _you_ here? Thor can't have sent you."

"Thor was supposed to come. There was an accident with the teleporter."

"An accident," he repeated. He was studying her, his expression revealing nothing. He took a wobbly step toward her. "You continued the work in my absence."

"Of course I did, I wasn't about to just drop it."

"And the first thing you did when you finished was try to send Thor after me," he said, half to himself. "Without even testing your new machine first, else this _accident_ would never have happened. I confess, in the endless age I spent in that serpent's coils I called out many names, but it never occurred to me that _you_ would answer."

"I didn't answer. I didn't hear you," she said hoarsely. 

"Something did. But then, you were toying with fate. Do you truly believe in accidents, still?" He gave an almost rueful laugh. "I had forgotten you existed until you appeared there before me, holding in your hands an end to my torment." He had closed the distance between them, looming over her so she had to crane her neck to look up at him. 

"Are my feelings supposed to be hurt? I don't care if you forgot me. Go right ahead, it's really more comfortable for everyone."

"Then it's unfortunate that you have bound us together permanently, with more magic you don't understand."

"Not unfortunate for me. What's the matter, disappointed you won't get to - _kill_ Thor's woman after all?"

"No," he said softly, "No, I am not disappointed."

She was suddenly at a loss for words. "Well. You - "

"Though I hope you have a plan for breaking the news to Thor that you've made me your blood brother. He's terribly possessive of his favorites. See how he follows me across all the Nine Realms."

"Mock all you like," she said, glaring up at him. "We both know you're just mad because I got the better of you. Me, the human. And I'm planning on telling _everyone_."

"Just who do you think there is to tell, Jane?"

This was it. She had to find out if he was going to stick to his word. Maybe, just maybe there was enough decency in him to feel indebted. "You promised to take me back to Earth. And then to go to Asgard with Thor and not to kill any more people. That was my price for letting you go."

She watched him. Everyone had a tell. Everyone who wasn't the god of lies, maybe. She tried to pluck his thoughts from his expression like he seemed to do with her. 

He closed his eyes and sighed, and when he opened them there was no anger there. "So it was. Am I churlish? Forgive me. I have been in rough company." He laughed with that mad edge to his voice. "There are hundreds of frost giants out there hunting for me, and it will be some time before I can travel by magic. How fast can you run?"

It wasn't a no. She couldn't be certain how he would twist and turn in the future, but at least at this moment they didn't seem to be enemies.

"Faster than you right now," she said. "You can't even walk without me."

He slumped back against the boulder. "Probably not," he conceded. "But I will heal soon. The venom is gone." He looked down at his burned hands. The livid puffiness around the wounds had vanished, and some of them had closed, but there was still significant tissue damage. The rest of him looked slightly better. The long cut across his abdomen had closed entirely.

"Your...." She waved her hands inarticulately. "You know, insides. Will they grow back?"

"They have been for the past - months, apparently. It seemed longer." He added softly, "Don't think the giants will be kinder to you if they catch us."

She understood. He thought she was going to be a burden. A weak, fearful mortal who was bound to slow him down. Easy prey for the frost giants. 

Thrym's dagger lay on the ground where she'd dropped it. She picked it up. It was too big and heavy for her, but it felt comfortable. No fear touched her as she watched light glimmer on its blade. In the past few hours she'd gone from validation of all her scientific theories to near-death from cold to blood and bone and guts; from high to low, through a nightmare and out the other side. Frost giants? Hadn't she already seen the worst they could do? Hadn't she stolen Loki away from them? And hadn't she forced him to do what she wanted? Life had just wrung all the fear and pain and tears out of her, and in the end the score had still come up Jane Foster: 1, Jotunheim: 0. She wasn't about to fold now. 

"Can you turn us invisible again?" she asked. 

He nodded. "But not at a distance. You'll have to stay close to me."

"Then we can walk straight through the search lines."

He eyed her appraisingly. "That's the plan, yes."

"They know about the invisibility trick. They're going to use something called rime-lights."

"Ah. Then they'll be able to see us, but only our shadows. We'll have to be careful."

"And we need clothes, it's freezing down there. Can you magic something up?"

He shook his head. "I need my hands to conjure."

"Well, then," she said, putting her hands on her hips. They would have to find something, maybe steal from the giants - although the ones she'd seen certainly didn't seem to wear much. "No point in hanging around here. I'm ready if you are."

***

Loki still leaned on her to walk, though more lightly now. At least his arm slung around her shoulder was warm - the temperature was dropping as they got further from the hot interior of the mountain. She carried the dagger in her right hand, just in case, even though its weight made her arm ache. As they picked their way down the slope, the horns sounded again: one by one now, each voice different.

"One for each hall," Loki said. "I count fifty-three. That makes several hundred jotuns."

Lights moved down on the plain. They were torches, but bluish-white like stars, and in the pale circles they cast Jane could see the giants: some of them mounted on huge, gray creatures with low-hanging heads, others on foot. From up here they looked like toy soldiers lining up in a row. The line stretched all the way around the curve of the mountain and out of her sight. 

She and Loki weren't moving very fast, but once the hunters began sweeping forward, the distance between them closed rapidly. The horns sang continuously in a complex system of signals that seemed to keep the giants evenly spaced and coordinated. 

"They're coming," she said when the searchers were close. 

"Don't let the torchlight fall on you," Loki reminded her.

The line met them on a steep, bare patch of slope near the plain, with not even a boulder to take cover behind. Jane watched the giants advance toward them, unseeing eyes sweeping across the gleaming obsidian ground. It was hard to believe they were invisible; she could see herself and Loki next to her just fine. She felt horribly exposed. 

"Calm," he breathed in her ear.

"I _am_ calm," she whispered back.

Each giant held a blue torch and they were close enough together to leave no gaps between the circles of light, no sliver of darkness to slip through. 

"See the young one?" Loki whispered, pointing with his chin. One of the giants nearby was smaller than the rest, perhaps twelve feet tall. He kept glancing at his neighbors as if for reassurance. "Inexperienced. That's the one."

 _Slaughterer of children_ , the words rose unbidden in her mind.

"No sound now," he said, barely louder than a breath. 

They angled into the path of the young giant, their steps slow and quiet. He came directly toward them, the rays from his torch stretching out like fingers as he held it out before him. The fuzzy edge of the circle reached for their feet. It was freezing - the blue fire emanated cold instead of heat. Jane glanced down; the beginning of a shadow was forming behind her feet, filling rapidly with thick, white frost. Rime-light! she comprehended. If they stepped into it, their shadows would appear on the ground, outlined plain as day in frost. 

The pressure of Loki's elbow on her shoulder stopped her. A horn rang, and when it faded away, he spoke. At least, she felt the vibrations resonate through him, saw his jaw moving, but the voice that spoke belonged to Thrym, and it came from behind the young giant.

"Idiot!" Thrym's voice said. "You've let them through, boy!"

The giant's eyes widened and he whirled, holding the rime-light out in front of him as he peered back out toward the plain. Behind him fell the long column of his shadow, crystals of frost shooting across it until it looked like someone had painted a giant on the ground with ice. Loki pulled her forward onto the frosted patch. The giant turned around again. He was chewing his lip, red eyes darting around nervously. 

The rime-light washed over them, a cold front that made her face ache. She looked back to see the frost forming - but they were shorter than the giant, their shadows falling entirely within his, and that was already filled in nearly solid with white. 

The horn sang again and the line moved forward. The young giant followed, looking deeply confused. They turned sideways to let him pass; she could have reached out and touched him, a mere six inches away. 

And just like that, they were through. The lights and horns and shouts continued up the mountain without them. They hurried on, picking up the pace as much as they were able.

When they reached the first of the rock pillars that marked the beginning of the plain, Loki chuckled to himself.

"Child's play," he said, smug. "It will take the thick brutes days to realize they've been outwitted." He added in Thrym's voice. " _Idiots!_ "

She was relieved enough to want to laugh, too, but ever since they'd passed through the rime-light the cruel cold had been burrowing into her, taking up residence in her bones, in her marrow, in her _teeth_. It felt like death. Down on the plain there was no wind, but the cold hung heavy and still as if the air itself were ice. Snowdrifts were piled among the rock pillars. 

"L-Loki," she said, barely able to get the word out. They couldn't go back to where it was warm, but he had to help her, he had to do _something_. The cut on her cheek she could no longer feel guaranteed it. 

"Oh, for pity's sake," he said. "You are inconvenient."

He stepped away from her, bracing himself against the pillar instead. His burned and scabbed hands stretched out as if pulling something from the air. He grunted; closed wounds broke open and blood ran down his arms, dripping from both his elbows onto the ground. 

"Damn," he said. "Skadi's hounds will scent that, when they think to search here."

But it was worth it - he had conjured a bundle of clothing. Which promptly dropped into a snowdrift when his hands couldn't grip it.

She knelt down and rummaged through the bundle herself. "Are these... yours?" she said through chattering teeth.

"I don't usually keep other people's clothing," he said.

She pulled on some sort of tunic made of leather and heavy green cloth, and over that a black coat that fell to mid-calf on her. Both were far too big, but as the air inside began to warm from her body heat, that didn't seem like much of a problem. She stuffed her hands in the coat's pockets; there were no gloves, and she was worried about frost-bite to her fingers. 

"You should put something on, too," she said. 

He'd been watching her dress with interest. "I don't get cold," he said. 

Asgardians. She should have guessed.

"Yeah, but you'll look better with clothes on. You know, less like a crazy fugitive." Truth be told, she found his state of undress rather uncomfortable when he had to lean on her to walk all the time.

He shot her a sardonic look that said he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Here, this one doesn't have sleeves, there won't be any pressure on your arms." She handed him a green surcoat threaded with gold embroidery. He shrugged it on without comment and let her do up the buttons in front. 

That left a leather helmet - thankfully not adorned with goat's horns. She put it on and it slipped down until it nearly covered her eyes.

Loki chortled. "Between the helm and the dagger - Jotunheim trembles! I think Skadi has met her match."

"Very funny," she muttered, pushing the helm back out of her eyes. It kept her ears warm, that was the important thing. 

From the mountain rose the sound of a new horn, unlike the ones they'd heard before. It was higher and wilder, like a falcon's cry.

"Ah," Loki said. "Skadi joins the chase." He didn't look displeased; he was smiling his mad, hungry smile, the one that made his face look like a skull. The one that meant he was anticipating violence. It had scared her in the past, but now she felt an answering thrill of excitement - it was meant for someone else, after all. And if she had to run from giants, at least she was going to do it in the company of the most accomplished giant-killer ever.


	10. But Your Enemies Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your comments! It's really thrilling to see people having such in-depth thoughts. Please accept this humble next chapter. :D

The small mound of snow melted slowly in Jane's cupped hands. As soon as it was liquid, she gulped it down. It barely wet her parched throat. She waited patiently for another handful to melt. She was thirsty enough to drink the entire snowdrift. And she was _starving_.

"Perhaps we should get you a bowl with your name on it," Loki said behind her. 

She ignored him. Ever since they'd escaped from the black mountain, he'd oscillated between amused condescension and just plain meanness. Nothing escaped a cutting observation or veiled insult. Since she was about as good at repartee as she was at baking, she'd mostly said nothing back. If you couldn't win, it was better not to play.

She'd gotten a brief respite while he slept, but apparently he was starting up exactly where he'd left off.

"Sleep well?" she rasped. 

Instead of answering, he stood up and walked a few paces back and forth, slowly but without wobbling. Thank God, at least she wouldn't have to be his crutch anymore.

She had no idea how much time had passed. They'd wandered for hour after hour through the forests of pillars stretching up to the sky, through canyons and over ridges - always sticking to the rockiest ground and darkest shadows. Loki had made them double back more than once to muddy their trail. She had noticed no signs of pursuit, but he had grown more tense and irritable as time went on. Maybe the silence troubled him, or maybe he was just in pain. He hadn't said anything about it, but she'd noticed the tremors that went through him whenever the burned part of his skin grazed her. 

They had finally stopped in the shelter of an overhang. Loki had slept like a stone, but her rest had been fitful, full of starts and stops and plagued by nightmares. She had dreamed once again that she was falling from the helicarrier, drowning in icy air without end. Below her tumbled Loki in his cage. He looked up at her and laughed before vanishing to leave her to die alone. 

When she woke, she watched the sky, trying to block out the gnawing of her stomach by searching for landmarks and constellations. If she could navigate by the stars, she wouldn't be entirely dependent on Loki to find her way. Not that they were going anywhere in particular at the moment. 

"How soon will you be able to teleport?" she asked now, scrubbing her face with snow-water. She dried her hands on the front of her coat and then stuck them back in its pockets. 

"It will be at least another week." Walking or not, his hands still hung in gnarled, scabby claws at his sides, and his torso probably remained a mess, too. 

She had no idea when that would be, here. "When is the sun going to come up?"

"I'm afraid Jotunheim lacks many civilized comforts. Such as a sun."

"Really?" she said, curiosity piqued. No sun? She wondered what had happened to it. Planets needed a star to form, and Jotunheim was still fairly warm - it must have an active core, so it couldn't be that old. Maybe something had knocked it out of its orbit and more, all the way out of its stellar system. That would require one _hell_ of an impact. It hardly seemed plausible that a planet could survive something on that scale intact, but well, here she was on a sun-less world. 

"Starting to feel at home?" Loki said. "It's a barbaric place, but compared to where you come from no doubt it seems impressive."

She got to her feet and a wave of dizziness nearly put her right back on the ground. Her stomach felt like it was trying to eat itself.

"Food," she said. "Food would be really good right now." What she wouldn't give for a BLT and some onion rings. 

"Then I hope you like meat. Jotunheim isn't known for its pastries."

"Meat sounds amazing. I'll eat anything they have. Unless it's people." She wouldn't put it past them to be the _fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman_ type of giant. In which case, Loki sounded worryingly English.

"Why do you have a British accent?" she asked, falling in beside him as they left the shelter of the overhang. It was gusty, fast-moving clouds covering and uncovering the sky. A few grainy snowflakes fell. She huddled down in her coat against the wind; Loki appeared unbothered. Her dagger hung limply in her hand, its point nearly dragging on the ground. She could still see some of her newly discovered stars: a very bright white one that hung low above the horizon and an almost straight row of five, the last with a reddish tint. 

"A what?"

"You sound like you're from a part of Earth called England."

"Don't be silly, Jane," he said, giving her a disdainful look. "You know I'm not from Earth."

"Yeah, that's why it's weird! And how come Thor has a different accent than you do?"

"Thor never paid proper attention to his elocution tutors."

She boggled at the image of Thor sitting at a desk trying to learn - the Queen's English?

"Why does everyone speak English?"

"Who?"

"You, Thor, the giants. Everyone. Seriously, why do frost giants speak English?"

"And here I'd come to believe that you possessed some glimmer of intelligence... No one speaks your Midgardian babble, woman. The giants speak their own uncouth tongue." 

"But I can understand them."

He gave an immense, long-suffering sigh. "Yes, the giants are immortal, thus the jotun tongue is also immortal. Naturally it's comprehensible on the lower level upon which you mortals operate."

So basically, complete nonsense, also known as magic. She was getting royally sick of magic. 

"We're going somewhere with food, right?"

"Such a fragile creature you are. How long can you survive without food?"

"I'm not sure, probably a couple of weeks."

"Ah, then it's not urgent?"

"Yes, it is! It's very, very urgent." She shouldn't have said that. Hunger was making her slow-witted. 

"Then I can hardly fail to find you some." There was the faintest edge to his voice. 

Jane fell silent, but that left her with nothing to think about except how hungry she was. She studied the stars again. Maybe one of them was the Sun. Probably not, though. It was only G-class, not visible from any great distance. The thought made her feel incredibly alone.

They came out of a tight cluster of rock pillars into an open space. A frozen river meandered across a stony plain, flowing down out of the hills rising ahead of them. The sight of it made her thirsty again. At the top of the ridge she could see - huge towers with jagged, broken tops crowning the bluffs. One of them had fallen over and was leaning against another. All black, of course. Jotunheim had a limited palette of colors.

"Is it all you dreamed it would be?" Loki said. For once, he didn't sound mocking. 

"What do you mean?"

"You studied the stars, did you not? You sought ways to travel to the other realms. Now you've seen one. Is it all you hoped for?"

She looked at the strange sky, the broken black towers, the river of ice. At Loki. He was an alien, after all, even if he didn't look like one. "I don't know. It's... strange, but also familiar. I thought it would be more - unimaginable. More shocking. Instead it's like something I knew, but forgot about a long time ago. That sounds really sentimental, I know."

He led them toward the riverbank. "The Nine Realms are linked by the branches of the World Tree. None of them are truly strangers to one another."

"What are the other realms like?"

"Muspelheim is hot, Niflheim is damp, Vanaheim tries too hard to be Asgard, Alfheim is beautiful, Svartalfheim is... not. And Hel is for the dead. Perhaps you'll see some of them as well, someday. We cross here."

He took a running leap onto the ice. Even barefoot and with his arms held out stiffly, he slid across the surface as gracefully as a figure skater, spinning halfway around to laugh back at her. His momentum carried him to the middle of the river. "Come on, Jane."

"Is it frozen all the way through?" she asked, cautious. She was a southwestern girl, not used to frozen bodies of water.

"Near enough. It's perfectly safe." 

She put a foot on the ice and it nearly slipped out from under her. 

"Don't step, slide," Loki said. 

She complied and ended up shuffling, zombie-like, a few yards onto the river, her arms stretched out for balance. The fact that Loki was watching in amusement didn't make it easier. She had almost reached him when she slipped again. She dropped her dagger in shock and grabbed the front of his coat with both hands to stop herself from falling. 

"I've heard that the giants have a great love for all manner of fools and jesters and buffoons," Loki said, still grinning. "With those skills, you should tender your application to the king. I have no doubt you'd make a memorable impression."

"Shut up," she said. "Can you reach my knife?"

"No," he said, holding up his damaged hands. 

She kept one hand on his coat and stretched down for the dagger with the other. The surface of the ice was too far away. She tugged on the coat until he leaned forward far enough for her fingers to grasp the hilt. She straightened, and her forehead nearly bumped his chin on the way back up. He didn't look at all annoyed to be used as a living scaffold; an impish smile tugged at his lips. 

She let go hurriedly and continued her shuffle to the other bank. Loki slid past her and waited until she was on solid ground again.

"Up there, you see?" he said, jerking his chin toward the hills. "The fishermen's huts."

She squinted. She could make out some buildings on the lower part of the slopes. The thought of fish made her stomach growl. "What do they catch?"

"Giant eels," he said, starting toward the houses. 

In the river they'd just crossed? She looked back at the ice, imagining huge slimy bodies squirming under the surface. She was glad he'd said that _after_ they were across it. Still, she kept glancing over her shoulder as they left, just in case something came writhing out in pursuit.

The buildings turned out to be a cluster of three houses huddled around a hollow. A white fence surrounded the little settlement, and as they drew closer it became increasingly clear that it was made of _bone_. Huge, long, thick bones crisscrossed like warning signs. She tried to imagine what kind of animal they might come from. Hopefully an animal, anyway.

The houses themselves were giant-sized, the doors twenty feet high and the steep roofs reaching forty, but they seemed fairly simple, with probably only one room each. The largest one had a skull above the door, grinning out into the night. It looked like it might well have belonged to a giant eel: long, narrow, with hundreds of small, needle-like teeth. The walls were made of uneven stones, closely fit; the overall appearance was both rustic and cold. There was an abandoned look about the place and the roof of one house had collapsed inward. 

It was quiet: she couldn't see any people or animals. But Loki approached cautiously, slipping between the bones and staying under the eaves of the collapsed house, and she gripped the hilt of her dagger as she followed. 

"Smoke," he said in a low voice. "Someone's cooking."

He was right. A thin, gray tendril rose from the chimney of the largest house. So there was warmth, and probably food, and at least one frost giant between those things and herself. 

"What do we do?" she said. 

He pondered the question for a moment. "Go in front of the house and scream."

"What is wrong with your _brain_?" 

"It'll lure him out."

"And then he'll grind my bones for his bread!"

"Don't be silly, I'm going to kill him."

"With what, your teeth?"

He gave her a dirty look. "Fine. I'll do it myself." And before she could protest, he walked out into the hollow and shouted, "Loki of Asgard says come out and fight, faintheart!"

"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed at him. He winked at her. _Winked._ Jane got ready to run.

There was a moment of absolute silence. Then the door opened and the house's resident stepped out. He was big; he had to duck his head to get under the lintel. His blue face was lined with age, but he certainly looked formidable enough. 

"Loki of Asgard, that cowardly cur who tried to burn us all from afar?" He glared down at his challenger, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Are you not still bound under the snake, wailing like a woman?"

"I have escaped to make your women wail instead."

"This I do not believe, for I have always heard that Loki preferred the attentions of men."

"I cannot help it if all desire me," Loki shrugged. 

"All desire your death, Asgardian. But I shall be the one with the deed to my name."

"Mighty words for such an old man. I cleaved those towers in the mountains, I made a terrible war upon your people. Do you not fear me?"

The giant snorted. "You are a liar through and through. It was Thor Odinson who made the war and Odin's Bifrost that clove the towers. I do not fear a man who did nothing but pull a switch."

 _Thor_? She must have heard that wrong. Her heart was pounding in her ears, that was why. 

"Do you not? I think I see your limbs trembling, old prune," Loki said. 

The giant spat. Quick as a flash, he reached inside the door to pull out a club, swung it over his head, and brought it down on Loki with the force of a freight train. 

Jane shouted a warning too late and before she knew it, she had run out into the hollow brandishing her knife - even as the illusion of Loki shimmered and vanished into nothing. Which left her standing by herself, face to face with an angry twenty-five foot man with a club. _Stupid mortal_ , the wind seemed to whisper. 

"Who are you, girl?" the giant said. 

She swallowed. "Um. I'm. A friend of giants everywhere?"

"You wear the garb of Asgard." The club rose again and then stopped, suspended in mid-air as the giant's eyes widened. 

She found herself surrounded by - herself. Twenty, thirty Janes stood in the hollow, complete with long coats and daggers, blinking around at each other with a rather foolish expression. 

"Sorceress!" the giant bellowed, and crushed one of the false Janes. 

She ran, and so did the others, thirty Janes tearing around like rabbits, all mirror images of each other. Every move she made was reflected on thirty different axes, a chaos of mirage and illusion. 

It was just her bad luck that the giant picked the real her to follow. 

She pelted around the building with the collapsed roof, feeling massive footsteps thudding behind her. She could hear his breath roaring and when she threw a glance behind her, she saw the club at the top of its arc, just beginning to descend. She threw herself to the side, toward the fence and away from the houses. 

The club crashed into the ground a few feet away, sending chunks of dirt and rock flying into the air. Her helm - too big anyway - flew off. Her head hit one of the fence posts hard; bright sparks swam before her eyes. Dirt got in her mouth and she coughed, choked, lying dazed as she tried to draw breath. Heavy steps vibrated through the earth to shake her entire body. She looked up to see the giant looming over her. 

The club rose again. She rolled to the side just as it smashed into the fence, splinters of bone flying everywhere. The bulge at the end lodged in the cross made by two bones and the giant tugged at it, his head turning to scowl at her. He looked for all the world like a crotchety old man shaking his stick at the kids invading his front lawn. Except blue and huge and deadly. 

She made a break for it, but had barely struggled to her feet when the giant's hand closed on the back of her coat. A spear of cold thrust down her spine. It wiped every thought from her mind; her muscles seized up, her teeth clamped down, her back was a sheet of ice. She couldn't even scream. Her world collapsed into one sensation: cold.

The giant let go and she dropped to the ground in a limp bundle of limbs. 

"Loki of Asgard!" he bellowed. "Show yourself!"

"Run into the house and fetch a burning log from the fire," Loki's voice said in her ear, although she couldn't see him anywhere. 

She hadn't thought she could move, but the enraged screams of a giant were incredibly motivating. She tottered across the hollow, not looking back. Whatever Loki was doing to distract the giant was making him furious - and keeping him busy. 

The inside of the giant's house did indeed consist of one huge room, with a table taller than her head filling the center of it. She didn't have time to get a good look at her surroundings; she headed straight for the small fire in the hearth against one of the walls. There was a cauldron hanging over it, bubbling with some kind of stew. She pulled a burning stick out of the flames and ran back outside. 

The giant was still roaring, but coming closer now. He stomped from behind the ruined house shouting, "Trickery! A coward's guile!" His eyes alighted on her and his lips pulled back in a snarl. 

She held her tiny stick and stared back, too scared to move. 

Next to her, the night moved; a veil of shadow pulled back, and suddenly Loki was standing where there had been nothing before. 

"Hold up the fire," he murmured, "Steady, now."

She raised the flickering brand as high as she could as the giant came closer, step after step, closer still, until he was almost on them - 

The flames sputtered, turned a lurid green, and suddenly roared, an arc of pale fire shooting out to catch the giant in the face. The fire raced along his skin as if he'd been doused in gasoline, ravenous and unstoppable. Where the screams had been angry before, now they were shrill and panic-stricken. The giant dropped his club and flailed his arms, spreading the fire around his body even more. He began to run, blinded, blundering into first one building and then the next, over and over, trapped like a burning moth inside a lamp. 

She backed away and ran into Loki's chest, solid as a wall behind her. He didn't move.

"They don't like fire much, do they?" he said. 

She glanced up at him. Green flames danced in his eyes. He looked delighted. 

"That's horrible," she said, the stick shaking in her hand. "Horrible." 

"But effective."

The giant finally crashed through the fence and barreled down the slope, lighting the darkness as he went. They could hear him screaming for a long while yet. 

"You can put that back now," Loki said. 

It was snowing more heavily and the wind had picked up. The fire had turned back into ordinary flame. She dropped the stick on the ground, where the growing carpet of snow extinguished it. The stench of burning flesh lingered. She couldn't seem to stop shuddering.

"Skadi sends her storms to bar our way," Loki said. "We'll have to stay here until this has passed. Did he touch you?"

"No. Almost." Her back still had no feeling. She felt numb all over, in fact, inside and out. "It was really cold."

"Wait a moment."

He went into the house and came out a moment later with a bronze flask dangling from a strap looped around his elbow. 

"Drink this," he said, slinging it at her. 

She caught it. The sloshing of the liquid inside made her throat ache with thirst. "What is it?"

"Mead. It will warm you."

She opened it dubiously. The sharp, hot smell that wafted from inside was certainly inviting. She drank a deep draft. 

"Whoa," she said. It was sweet - and strong. Warmth shot through her body, bringing the life back to her stupefied muscles. It went straight to her head as well, empty as her stomach was. She didn't mind; it dulled the horror a bit. She put a hand against the wall to steady herself. She was drinking a dead guy's booze and she was about to go stay in his house. Someone she'd helped kill. Someone whose death she could still smell all around her. 

He'd been trying to kill them, though. That made it different. And he wasn't human. Did that matter? It probably shouldn't, but it was hard to think of the frost giants as people when they'd done nothing but attack them. It was hard to think in general. She was inundated by the same feeling of confused dislocation that had descended on her after the Destroyer had burned its path of destruction through Puente Antiguo. _Loki's_ path of destruction.

She tried to focus on something else. There had been an important question she'd wanted to ask. Before the burning had happened. She groped for it in her memory; anything to take her mind off that _smell_. Yes, she remembered: something about Thor. 

"What did that giant mean," she said, "when he said Thor had started a terrible war?"

"Hasn't he told you why he was banished to Earth?"

"He said it was for disobeying his father." Thor had told her a lot of things about Asgard, but not very much about his family. He'd been especially reluctant to discuss anything involving Loki - and she'd asked, back when they'd been on the helicarrier. It felt like a million years ago.

Loki chuckled. "It's not a falsehood, exactly. Perhaps Thor is getting better at lie-craft - half-truths make the best lies. He was banished, Jane, for leading a raid against Jotunheim in a time of peace, which began the most recent war between our realms."

"The war in which you tried to destroy all of Jotunheim?"

"Yes. It had escalated so far, I felt there was no other choice."

He _would_ think that. Just like he thought burning someone alive was a good idea. She felt cold inside. She was going to remember that, she was going to see those images in her head for the rest of her life.

"You should drink more," Loki said. 

That might not be such a great idea. This stuff would make her drunk way too quickly. But it made her feel so _warm_. She took another drink. The heat spread through her from the tips of her ears to the tips of her toes. Her mind swam in a haze. 

"So why did Thor organize an attack in the first place?" she asked, emboldened by the alcohol.

Loki shrugged. "Killing frost giants is what heroes do. They're our ancient enemy. And Thor, he oh so _loves_ being a hero. There was a minor skirmish and he took it as an excuse to attack."

"So it wasn't entirely unprovoked."

"It was a serious strike in retaliation for a negligible incident. Odin was angrier than I had ever seen him. He wouldn't banish his favorite son for something less than criminal - it was treason, after all."

She looked at him. He was leaning against the wall next to her, watching the snow dance in the hollow between the houses. She heard Thor's voice whisper in her memory, _he is not called Silvertongue for nothing._ But Thor had also said, _I have killed many giants myself, even when we had peace._ And it wasn't Loki who had brought up Thor starting the war, it was some random frost giant they'd run into by chance.

"I just can't imagine Thor doing something like that," she said. "He's so thoughtful."

Loki turned his head. His face was drawn; transforming that fire must have sapped his energy. "You know him hardly at all. For a thousand years, he was not thoughtful. Whatever change you've wrought in him, it won't last."

She shook her head, then stopped. Too much movement. "It wasn't me." 

His eyes bored into her, narrow and piercing like the very first time she'd seen him. "Oh, but it was. You made him soft. You, something about _you_ turned him into a different man."

She couldn't quite meet that gaze. "I don't think it works like that. Maybe he just had to become mortal to grow up. That's what we mortals do. We grow up fast."

A crease appeared between his brows as he studied her. He said nothing in reply.

She was starving. She remembered the cauldron of stew over the fire. Whatever it was, she was going to eat it. She offered a silent apology to the giant. At least she hadn't _liked_ doing this.

"I'm going inside," she announced, and took a step toward the door.

And suddenly, she was somewhere else. The hills and houses were gone; Loki was gone. She was standing next to a red cliff with a sheet of blue ice rippling down it. Before her stretched a long slope covered with boulders and scree.

"What the fuck - " she said, taking a step back. 

The world whirled around her again and she was in an empty channel between two rock pillars. They leaned so close together that they almost touched, a tiny patch of sky caught between them. God, what was in that mead? Was she hallucinating now?

Her mind worked through the alcohol buzzing in her brain. The sensation of the world moving around her felt just like it had when she'd first been transported to Jotunheim. Tony! she realized. It must be Tony and Thor on the other end, on Earth. They were trying to get her back! Maybe if she simply kept walking, she could walk right out of here and home this very minute. Home, home to sunlight and showers and Thor and telephones and stars she knew. She ached for it.

The next step took her into the midst of a party of frost giants watering their big gray beasts at a series of steaming pools. Five huge blue heads turned to look down at her, mouths opening in shock. She yelped and threw herself forward - 

Only to find her toes hanging over the edge of a precipice. She was on top of one of the rock pillars, teetering at the edge of a hundred-foot drop. Her arms flailed for balance - oh God, she had too much momentum, her head was spinning from the mead, she was going to fall - and she threw her weight backward and crashed down onto the solid stone of the pillar instead. She lay there, taking huge breaths and staring up at the twinkling stars. 

"Jesus, Tony," she said aloud. "Figure it out."

This was all wrong. She'd been jumping around Jotunheim instead of toward home. And why hadn't Tony sent Thor after her instead of mucking around with her probability field from light-years away? No wonder it wasn't working. 

Unless there was a reason he couldn't send Thor. Tony wasn't an idiot, after all. 

She put an arm over her eyes, blocking out the shaky stars above. An inkling was forming at the back of her brain. She had been so _stupid_. Why hadn't she tested the device more thoroughly? Why hadn't she tested it on someone other than herself? 

She remembered that perfect moment of insight when she'd discovered the equation that tied it all together. The equation that defined the probability field of an individual as separate from the rest of the universe. _Any_ individual, she had thought. Unless it defined only her own probability field - the data she'd been running all her simulations on. In which case the teleporter programmed with that equation would work only for her, and anyone else would need different math. If Tony couldn't come up with an equation for Thor or himself, he might think it was easier to yank her back to Earth instead. It would require truly spectacular amounts of power, but that was Tony's specialty. 

Very carefully, she got back to her feet. She could see for miles in every direction. There was a long chain of mountains far away in front of her, the summits peaked with ice. To the right the sky was clouded - probably the snowstorm she'd just come out of. To the left it was clear, and not far-off she saw a cluster of silver towers, square and thick as slabs of rock. In the center of the cluster was a white dome pulsing with light - a white light with rainbows flickering across it. The row of one red and four white stars that she'd noticed before hung over the complex. 

She filed the strange buildings away to mull over later. She didn't know how long Tony could keep this up. 

She walked, and each step took her somewhere in Jotunheim, around and around in circles. She saw the same group of giants four times, looking progressively more and more shocked and confused. There were other places: a frozen ocean, plains of blue and red, forests of ice instead of rock. Huge buildings like cathedrals and skyscrapers - so many of them ruined it seemed the planet was half-deserted. It must have been magnificent once. But as fascinating and alien as it was, she wished with every step for it to disappear and turn into the physics lab in Stark Tower instead. 

Finally, one of her jumps deposited her back at the little hollow. The snow had piled up in her absence and the wind was strong now, swirling flakes around with a vengeance.

"Loki!" she shouted.

He came skidding out of the giant's house. Her knife was hanging at his belt and he had a bag over his shoulder. He must have been about to go look for her. 

"Jane! What happened?"

"Stay back!" she said. "Tony's trying to teleport me home, I don't know what'll happen if you - "

In two quick strides, he was by her side. His arms closed around her waist in an awkward embrace that kept his hands clear; he lifted her clean off the ground. Her feet dangled. 

" _Hey!_ Hey, what are you doing? Put me down!" If she couldn't walk, she couldn't teleport. "I'm supposed to be going back to Earth!" Earth, home, Thor, showers, sunlight, damn it, she didn't know how long the window of opportunity would last.

"That is, in fact, the bone of contention," Loki said.

It took a moment for that to sink in. The last of the alcohol buzz cleared from her head, seared away by anger. "You ungrateful _bastard_. You promised!" It sounded weak when she said it out loud.

"Did you have faith in me?" His smile was mocking. "Charming. But no one has ever called me the god of keeping promises."

"You're - you are," she groped for a word nasty enough to describe him. There really wasn't one. " _Such_ an asshole. Why can't you just let me go home? If Tony can bring me back, you won't even have to do anything! Are you really _that_ jealous of Thor that you have to keep me even now that you can't hurt me?"

"Well, I won't deny that tweaking Thor's nose has its appeal. But this is really all your own fault, Jane. I can't exactly prevent you from coming to harm if we're in different realms, can I? And I have no desire to return to that dingy backwater you call home."

Oh, _fuck_. "Are you for real? This is because of the oath? We have to be neighbors forever now?" She had a vision of herself, aged seventy, sitting on a porch drinking iced tea while Loki glowered at her, making sure she didn't choke. She almost laughed out loud. The stuff of nightmares. Though the way things were going, she probably wasn't going to live long enough to reach retirement age anyway.

"How did you think this was going to work?" Loki hissed.

"There wasn't exactly a manual!"

"You shouldn't have meddled." He shook her once so her teeth clicked and then froze as if paralyzed, angry frustration playing over his face. 

"Ha!" she said. She hoped trying to break the oath hurt. She punched him in the chest and thrashed, trying to make him drop her. Her hand throbbed as if she'd hit a block of stone; he went pale and his lips pulled back in a grimace, but his grip didn't loosen.

"Tell me," he said, his voice like honey, "have you considered how broad the definition of 'harm' might be? You're a scientist - perhaps we could conduct some experiments." His voice dropped. "I could make you very uncomfortable."

Her skin crawled. " _Don't._ "

His smile didn't touch his eyes. "Why ever not?"

"Because! I just rescued you from excruciating torture and then saved your life! That has to mean something, even to you."

"Are you appealing to my better nature?"

"I'm trying to appeal to your reason, if you have any left. How long do you think you're going to live, making enemies left and right? Who's going to help you when the next guys come to cash in their revenge check, if not Thor and me?" 

"I don't need help from the likes of _you_ , you miniscule creature."

"You just _did_ ," she said, grabbing one of his burned hands and twisting. 

He cried out and dropped her in the snow. She landed on her hands and knees. The look on his face was pure murder; he was trembling with rage. At that moment she was extremely grateful for the blood oath, no matter the inconvenient side effects. 

"Don't pretend it didn't happen," she said. "You looked up at me and cried and said you would do _anything_ for me."

He kicked a pile of snow in her face. She sputtered; it stung, and not just physically. 

"You can forget about seeing your precious Earth ever again," he said. "Count yourself lucky I don't simply lock you in a cage and cart you around like a beast."

He stalked off, but stopped after only a few steps. He turned halfway and said, more moderately, "I owe you a debt. But I am not your tame god. Don't mistake me for Thor." And then vanished into the giant's house.

Sitting there in a snowstorm light-years from home, she felt a more perfect harmony with Thor than she ever had when they were together. So this was what he had to put up with. She wiped the snow off her face. There was nothing she wanted less than to go inside that house. But it was freezing, and she had to eat before she fainted. 

She got up and walked a few experimental paces. Nothing happened; whatever Tony and Thor had been doing was over. She'd probably reverted back to her starting point in the first place because the attempt had failed. But they would try again, and Tony would find a way. She had an out. All she had to do was wait. Loki could rage all he liked, it made no difference. She was going to Earth, and he would have to follow.

Jane gathered her feelings, the anger, the humiliation, surprisingly enough the _hurt_. It wasn't the first of Loki's temper tantrums she'd weathered, but it had never felt so personal before. She squeezed all the emotions into a ball and put the ball in a box and put the box away in the back of her mind. She wouldn't forget this. She was going to save that box and someday she was going to bring it out again and smack Loki in the face with it. And it would be beautiful.

She went inside.


	11. Fear and Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone! A note: updates are coming a little slower because certain real-life responsibilities can't be put off any longer. Just wanted to clarify that it's a time issue and not because I've lost interest in writing (wish I could get away with doing nothing else, really!).

It was a strange house on the inside. The table and benches and fireplace were all made of irregular stone slabs like menhirs, leaning at angles so there wasn't a flat surface anywhere. It reminded Jane of pictures she'd seen of Stonehenge, if Stonehenge had exploded and its pieces become stuck to the inside of a house. The high ceiling created a slight echo and between the chill and the shadows and the moaning of the wind the whole place had the feeling of a cairn.

Jane barely noticed. The first thing she did was eat the stew. She whisked it away from the fire and drank it straight out of the cauldron, picking out the pieces with her fingers as she sat under the huge table. It tasted amazing: hot, salty, rich, with flaky chunks of pale meat. If that was giant eel, she would consider herself a fan. She kept an eye on Loki the entire time, wary of any sudden movements. He merely slouched against one of the stone slabs making up the fireplace, legs splayed and chin sunk on his chest, watching her eat without expression as if he was meditating on her face. He still had her dagger tied around his waist. 

He was probably plotting. If he was right, the two of them were yoked together for good. Since he was the one bound to follow, he would have to control where she went if he wanted any freedom of movement. She tried to think what she would do in his situation. Tie her up - he couldn't grip things yet. Put her in a cage - he didn't have one. Physically constrain her himself - he could hardly hold on to her indefinitely. Whatever it was, she was determined to fight him every step of the way.

She waited for him to make a move. Instead, he fell asleep, still sitting up against the wall. His eyelids closed and his breathing evened out and suddenly she was alone, the room feeling strangely empty without the overbearing presence of his waking mind. 

She had an opportunity. If she slipped out while he was asleep, all she would have to do was stay away from him until Tony pulled her back home. The only problem was the monster of a storm raging outside... and surviving in Jotunheim without Loki. She was in better shape than when she'd arrived - the warm clothes made a big difference - but she was hardly a survivalist and it was like Antarctica out there. She didn't know how long she would have to make it on her own. And no matter what, she had to wait until the storm was over.

She watched Loki's chest rise and fall and mulled over her options. Although tired, she was afraid to sleep herself. Tony might try again, and she would never know unless she happened to be walking at the right moment. She paced slowly along the length of the room, just in case, trying not to let despondency drag her down. There was no telling how long it would take to fix whatever had gone wrong. It might be weeks. She couldn’t keep walking forever. It was all down to luck – and hers hadn’t been good lately.

She decided to make a thorough search of the house while Loki was asleep. There might be something useful. 

The big room had nothing in it aside from the table, two benches, and the fireplace. There was no bed. Maybe the giant had a hammock somewhere, or maybe he’d slept on the floor. Or not at all. There was a door at the back leading to a smaller room, a sort of lean-to built against the back wall. It was packed with all manner of strange objects: huge spears she guessed were harpoons, a net made out of white, stringy fibers, stone jars and caskets, hundreds of slabs of what looked like dried meat hanging from the ceiling. Jackpot. 

There was nothing of cloth or wood anywhere, aside from the sticks in the fire – she hadn’t seen any plants at all in Jotunheim so far – but she found a pouch made of leather, big enough to be a backpack on her. It took some maneuvering to climb high enough up the stacks of caskets to reach the ceiling, but once up there, she managed to throw down enough of the dried meat to fill the bag. She added the bronze flask of mead, after refilling it from one of the caskets that had a similar smell. If the frost giants had mead, did they have bees to make the honey? Frost bees? Maybe they were oversized and blue, too. 

She packed the bundle up as tight as she could and concealed it in one of the snowdrifts that had piled up outside the door. Better to be prepared, in case she decided to run. An icy draft drove into the room immediately, scattering snow on the floor. She braved it long enough to scrub the cauldron out and fill it with snow to melt over the fire.

Loki hadn’t stirred. After the door was shut again, she stood across the fireplace from him, leaning against the warm slab of rock and watching the water heat. When bubbles began collecting at the bottom of the cauldron, she took it off the flames and removed her coat and tunic and sweater. There were still bloodstains encrusted on the latter. Loki's blood. She scrubbed at them, little rusty flakes coming away. The blood had soaked through to her top as well; she dabbed at the stains, unwilling to take it off. 

In her back pocket she found her cell phone, the battery dead and the screen cracked. The sight of it shot a pang of homesickness through her so wrenching she nearly teared up. She pressed the power button, knowing nothing would happen. Erik's number was in there, and Darcy's, and Thor's. Her mother's, which she'd forgotten to call for weeks again. She would kill to hear their voices again. She put the phone back in her pocket, useless or not.

She was trying to get the rest of her as clean as possible without soap or further removal of clothing when Loki made a noise in his sleep. A sort of choking noise. She scooted further away, out of range of potential I’m-having-a-nightmare thrashing.

He said, quite clearly if softly, “Jane.”

She froze and looked around, as if there might be some other Jane nearby. Then she reached out and poked his shoulder. “Hey,” she said. “You’re dreaming. Wake up.”

He shuddered and opened his eyes. “Oh, it’s you,” he said.

The big faker, like he hadn’t just been dreaming about her. Or maybe about the snake – he was breathing rather quickly and pressing his hands to the cool stone floor away from the fire. First the palms, then the backs.

“Do they hurt?” she asked.

“They itch.”

That would mean they were healing. They did, in fact, look better: some skin had grown back and he was flexing the fingers ever so slightly. The sleeping must have helped. Apprehension began to gnaw at her. She had no doubt that the moment he had his manual dexterity back, he would take action to prevent her from dragging them off somewhere he didn't want to go. The outburst had been no joke. She’d only managed to keep up with him in their various power struggles so far because other forces had been working against him – Mjolnir, the poison, the oath. But as his power waxed, her advantage would fade. If she wanted to get home, it would have to be soon. As soon as the storm let up, she decided. If it was Antarctica or being Loki's human-on-a-leash, she knew which one to pick.

“What are you doing?” he said, eyeing the cauldron and the clothes scattered around the fire to dry. 

Trying to get the bits of him off her. “Washing,” she said aloud.

“Not a bad idea,” he said, not very interested. He pressed his hand against the ground again, hard. “This is… most uncomfortable.”

Despite herself, she felt a flash of empathy. She’d stayed in a crappy sublet in Tucson one summer while doing a graduate research project and the place had been infested with fleas when she’d arrived. The bites had driven her crazy until she managed to clear the noxious pests out with a flea fogger. 

“Just a second,” she said.

She braved the outdoors again to dump out the bloody water and refill the cauldron with snow. 

“The cold will help,” she said, setting it down next to him.

He stuck a hand in and let out a long sigh. “It does,” he said, sounding surprised. Maybe they didn’t have bug bites in Asgard. Or serious injuries. “Thank you,” he added.

Definitely plotting. Whenever Loki was polite, he ended up springing something unexpected and unpleasant on her once her guard was down. Niceness was a façade and behind it lurked the stormy, unpredictable mass of his real feelings. Well, she could play nice, too. He wouldn’t know what had hit him until she was gone and they were both back on Earth.

“Must be nice to heal so quickly,” she said. The two seconds she’d spent outside without warm clothing had chilled her to the bone; she huddled against the fireplace, wrapping her arms around her knees.

"How long does it take you?"

"Well, it depends on the injury. Does it matter?"

"I might need to know, in the future."

Just a few hours ago he'd barely been restrained from doing her harm himself and now he wanted her medical history. Typical. Play nice, she reminded herself. No snapping. She was docile, she was meek, she was totally not planning on running away the moment he turned his back. 

"Compared to you?" she said. "Any little thing can kill me. I probably wouldn't even get a chance to heal from the stuff they've got here."

He stretched his long legs, shaking off the remnants of sleep. The cuts and bruises that had covered them had mostly become scabs and scars and yellow shadows. Soon there would be no sign he'd ever been hurt, she thought with a touch of envy. He was still examining his hands, trying very gingerly to bend the stiff fingers.

"You were right about one thing. I have a lot of enemies." He spared her a lingering look. "And now they're your enemies, too. They will perceive you as my ally."

"But I..." Was she? She'd released him from his chains, she'd helped him kill someone. But that was all situational; it wasn't like she'd made some kind of moral choice to support him and what he'd done. "It's only temporary," she said. 

"Not anymore. Now you're my very permanent weak spot." He stared across the fireplace at her, his eyes very clear. "My soft underbelly. Anyone who wants to strike at me will go through you first."

"Only if they know about me," she said desperately. It was all still sinking in - she was stuck with him for _life_. In sickness and in health, 'til death do them part. God, she'd practically married him. She was going to have to worry about how Loki fit into her life every day now. About how to control him, how to keep from being shredded in the machinery of his schemes and counter-schemes and reprisals and ambitions.

"You think you can remain my dirty little secret?" he said, raising his eyebrows innocently. 

"Shouldn't you be good at keeping secrets?" she replied. It seemed like something that went hand in hand with lying.

The corners of his mouth curled up. "And where should I keep you?"

"Earth, Loki. I want to go to Earth."

He sighed and gazed up at the ceiling. "Midgard is where I'm expected to be. It's the first place anyone will look and therefore the most dangerous - for both of us. You're better off letting me decide where to go."

Pretend to be defeated. Play to his vanity, let him think he was convincing her with his superior judgment. "Can't I ever see my home again?" she said.

"There are much more beautiful worlds out there than Midgard. Don't you want to see them? Your whole life, isn't that what you wanted?"

"I suppose so. Where will you take us?"

"Alfheim or Svartalfheim first. The dwarves are not fond of me, but they're more clever than the elves. I need to make you less - defenseless. They're good at crafting that sort of thing."

"Dwarves?" she said, not having to fake her interest. "You're kidding." Crafting something like - mithril? But she was willing to bet that he was thinking not of chainmail but of chains.

"Nasty creatures," he said. "Skillful, but... rancorous. They have long memories."

"Oh. More enemies?" 

"Some of them have been." A spasm of dislike flashed over his face.

The wind had gotten fiercer, chasing drafts through chinks in the walls. Tremors ran through her no matter how hard she tried to control them. The heat of the flames hardly seemed to extend more than a foot. 

Loki's eyes flickered to the fire and it suddenly leaped, burning twice as high and twice as hot.

"Thanks," she said. She pressed her cheek against the warming stone. "So, who else do I have to worry about now?" Aside from the dwarves and the frost giants and the entire human race. He'd had plenty of time to make more enemies since he'd sent the Destroyer after Thor. She tried not to imagine who might be out there in space - alien species, people from other planets, people she wanted to _meet_ and study - willing to attack her because it would force Loki's hand.

The name he said was the last one she would've expected.

"Thor."

She snorted. " _Thor_? Please. He's not _my_ enemy. You might want to watch your back, though, for sure."

His mouth tightened. "He will pursue us both forever now that I've stolen you away from him."

Deep breaths, no snapping. She couldn't believe how warped his perceptions were. "As far as I remember, there was no stealing of any kind. I came after _you_. By accident."

"Yes. That must be eating him up inside right now," Loki mused. "The thought of you here with me. He would never trust you again, you know. Too bad I won't get to see the look on his face."

"Knowing him, he's worrying himself sick about both of us. Not exactly something an enemy would do." 

" _Know_ him?" Loki said, and for a moment harshness broke through the cordial veneer, "You don't know him. You know an idol you have set up to worship. Do you want to know what he's really like? Thor started a war because someone ruined his big coronation day. Thor burned a man's house down because he stole the affections of a woman Thor wanted for himself. Thor threw me into an abyss because he couldn't stand to see _me_ as king."

He glared at her as if she'd been the one to do those things.

Liar, liar, she chanted in her head. She refused to believe. "I don't know anything about any of that," she said. 

"No, of course you wouldn't." The pleasant mask had returned. "You're only a pawn, after all. He uses you when he needs you. Thor would never show you who he truly is."

"And you don't know anything about _us_ ," she said. "You couldn't possibly understand."

"Understand what? Is it love, this thing you believe beyond my comprehension?" His lips curved. The dim light softened his face until he looked almost boyish, shadows deepening his smile. "Tell me again, how long did it take him to seek you out after he returned to Earth?"

Even after months with Thor, that stabbed at something hidden away deep inside her.

"He didn't do it at all, did he?" Loki said softly. "Six weeks and he never bothered. He simply left you. Until you found your way to him on your own and then - there you were, doing his bidding again. Laboring to send him away from you, after all that time you spent waiting. Warming his bed. As if nothing had happened and he didn't owe you anything."

" _Stop_ it," she burst out. "It's not like that. You're just twisting everything." He made her sound like a toy, something Thor was only playing with. It hadn't been like that - not when they were together, no matter what thoughts she'd had before, when he'd failed to come back.

"I don't mean to hurt you, Jane," Loki said. "It's only that I understand too well - I loved him, too. For hundreds of your human lifetimes. He was always like that. He accepts your devotion and doles out crumbs of his affection in return and thinks it a fair bargain. Because he believes he's _better_ than you. Aren't you grateful for his attention sometimes, Jane? Showering down from on high, making you feel so important? I was."

She shook her head numbly. She didn't want to hear any more of this. His words slipped under her skin, swimming up her bloodstream and into her heart. He was talking about her own life, her own feelings, things she should know inside and out. But it hurt in a way that lies didn't.

"But if you forget your _place_ ," he went on bitterly, "if you dare to think yourself his equal - then you will see the real Thor. Arrogant, cruel, proud, greedy. A perfectly superior being." He was staring at her as if he could impress what he was saying into her flesh with his eyes. His voice was a living thing, wrapping spiderweb-thin coils around her. He hadn't moved an inch closer, but she felt smothered by his presence. 

"That sounds more like you," she whispered. 

"I - " That brought him up short. He looked like he'd been hit in the face. 

"It's true," she said quickly. Anything to change the subject from Thor. "You talk to me like I'm a pet. And that's on a good day."

"Well," he said, still taken aback. "But you're a human. I'm a thousand years older than you and I could break you in half."

"Thor could break _you_ in half, but you don't think that makes him superior. And you sure don't act like you're a thousand."

She expected him to scoff, but he actually seemed to be listening to what she was saying. 

"It's true that you don't seem notably childish," he said. "But your people believed us gods. If we are not superior, then they were but fools worshiping nothing."

"I didn't say you weren't more powerful or that humans don't make mistakes. Just that you're not morally better than us. If you don't think Thor has the right to rule you just because he's stronger, then you had no right to rule us, either."

"It's not the same. You are a different class of being."

"Different doesn't mean inferior."

"Why not? We have might and magic and immortality, or close to it. What does humanity have that gives you the right to address us as equals?" He was watching her keenly now. 

She fumbled for an answer. Humans didn't seem to have anything, by those standards. They were weaker, shorter-lived, less technologically advanced, constantly fighting wars, not more intelligent or brave or compassionate. Asgard had everything Earth did, on a bigger and better scale. And less of the bad things even if you counted Loki against them. 

"You see?" he said, amused. "But don't worry. I won't hold it against you personally."

"We may not have anything," she insisted. "But we manage all right without magic and immortality. We do all the same things you do. We - we search for knowledge and tell jokes and make art and fall asleep and feel the same emotions, fear and love and jealousy, all of them. Some of us are insane, some of us kill each other. Our lives are just the same as yours."

"They can't be, Jane. You're a mathematician - do the math. You can't have thousands of years worth of experience in less than a hundred."

"Yes, we can," she argued stubbornly. "We have to. We don't have any other choice. If someone tears out my insides, they won't grow back. I don't get a second chance. Just one short life to do everything that matters."

He was leaning toward her; he seemed riveted by her attempts to explain. "Then it's fear," he said slowly, as if making a profound discovery.

"What?"

"Fear of death. That's what you have that we don't. _That_ is what I kept running up against - fear is what united the humans against me, fear is how that monster dared to touch me, fear is why you made me swear that oath. It is your terror that makes you resourceful. Your desperation. Your weakness." He sounded pleased with his answer. 

It couldn't come down to that. There had to be something else - something _better_ at the heart of humanity. Love or determination or compassion or something. But even thinking those words made her feel silly and sentimental, she couldn't say _that_ to him, not to someone so cynical and bloodthirsty. And the way he'd explained his theory made it sound so right. He twisted everything around until she didn't know what was what. 

"You're wrong," she said anyway. "How would you know, anyway? It's not like you hang out with humans all the time. You can't claim to know us any better than I can know Thor."

"I know you."

"No, you don't," she said. God no, he didn't. If he was basing his whole idea of humanity on her, then no wonder he thought it all came down to fear. She'd certainly been afraid of him more than once. But that wasn't the whole picture, not of her, not of humans in general.

"Oh, but I do. I've had every opportunity to get to know you. And I was very _interested_ \- I wanted to know what Thor saw in you." He slid to his feet and looked down at her, his expression shuttered and pensive. "Now I know." And he turned away, wandering off to inspect the house as she had already done, leaving her with no reply.

***

The storm raged for days, or what felt like days. The hours blended together into a haze of shadows and sleep and the weak, flickering light of the undersized fire. Her determination to escape out of Loki's reach strengthened even as the timing grew more precarious. After that strange conversation when they'd first arrived, Jane had felt his proximity like a weight pressing down on her, an allergen she'd become sensitized to. The things he'd said had burrowed into her like some kind of - insect. The words crawled around inside her brain. _Now I know._ They had an ominous ring to them.

She spent much of the time pacing, hoping to feel the tell-tale shifting that meant she was about to be transported home. Sometimes Loki watched her with a knowing look in his eyes, but he didn't comment. He slept a lot, and every time he woke his hands looked better. She tried studying them while he was asleep - maybe she could actually see the skin growing back - but it seemed to be a watched-pot-never-boils kind of situation. If he finished healing before the storm ended, she had no chance. 

But chance, for once, was on her side. She was woken from a half-doze by the absence of sound and knew at once that it was time to go. The wind had died; when she peeked outside the door, everything was still and white, the snow swept into huge drifts in some places and smooth surfaces in others. Loki was asleep, sitting up against the fireplace as always. 

She didn't hesitate. She took a branch from the ever-burning fire (" _Magic_ ," he'd said, predictably enough, when she'd asked why it didn't burn out.) - having a source of heat along would be worth it even if it made her more visible, she'd decided. That left only her dagger, still tied around Loki's waist with a simple leather cord. 

She barely breathed as she untied it. His face was calm in sleep, for once not marred by nightmares or passions. His head had fallen to the side, exposing the long line of his neck. Her hand faltered on the hilt. She could cut his throat right now. He would never wake up. He wasn't going to take her home, so there was no reason to want him alive. Except maybe for Thor's sake. A vision of blood spilling all over the floor flashed through her mind. It would get on her shoes.

Who was she kidding, she couldn't cut anyone's throat. She backed away.

"See you on Earth, loser," she whispered, and fled. 

She had to punch through a crust of ice over the snowdrift where she'd hidden the bag of provisions. Everything was still there, frozen but untouched. She looked back only once before setting off up the hill. 

The icy crust on the snow was strong enough to hold her weight; she broke through only once, sinking into a drift up to her chest and scraping her palms bloody pulling herself back out. She was afraid that the fall would extinguish her torch, but it burned on where it lay in the snow, undiminished. After that she stuck to what looked like the deepest, most solid areas. 

It was dead silent. Even the wind was gone. Her footsteps made next to no noise as she walked over the glimmering surface of the snow. The stars blazed overhead like distant bonfires. She felt like she was walking in a dream. She tried to recall New Mexico, its heat and dust and taco joints and smiling, sun-tanned people. It hardly seemed possible for that place, that life to co-exist in the same universe with this clean, dark, silent world. 

It didn't seem to take long to reach the broken towers on the crown of the hill; she felt refreshed rather than tired when she arrived at the top of the slope. It had been some sort of hall or meeting place - there were long tables and benches, abandoned, open to the elements amid the crumbling walls. The destruction might have happened a year or a week ago. There was no sign of decay, no weeds or lichens, only the mute stones. 

From here, she had a good view of the surrounding country. The hills rolled down again to the forest of rock pillars she and Loki had come out of days ago. To her left, low in the sky, hung the constellation she'd taken note of before: a line of four white stars and a red one. She'd seen it last above the white dome and silver towers that had been visible from the high rock column where the teleporter had dropped her. 

The light in the dome had been brilliant, with a rainbow sheen - just like the light that had burned through the helicarrier right before the giants had come for Loki. And Thor had often called the Bifrost a rainbow bridge. The light that brought the giants didn't look much like the storm that had deposited Thor on Earth all those months ago, but it seemed like enough of a connection to follow up on. At worst, it was somewhere to head while she waited for Tony to work his magic; at best, it might be another way home. 

She kept the arrow of stars in front of her and started down the slopes. She walked and walked and walked until she was exhausted, then ate and drank and slept and walked again. She pressed through the hills and into the interminable rock forest, blanketed with snow. The torch burned and burned without end like a star itself; whenever she stopped, she stuck it in the snow and crouched over it, letting it warm her hands and face. Time lost all meaning - the only measure of it was her shrinking supply of food. 

She'd thought that being away from Loki would be a relief, but to her chagrin she found she had hardly left him behind at all. No matter how much she tried to think of other things, his words kept replaying in her head over and over. She argued with him fiercely in her mind, repeating the same scenarios but coming up with better answers this time. Yes, maybe fear _was_ a significant motivator - but only because it was the root of compassion. It brought people together to face shared dangers. Or maybe it _was_ fear that made short-lived humans mature more quickly than immortal Asgardians, but how did that make them inferior? Earth was dynamic, always transforming itself; Asgard stagnated, its princes bored and immature after centuries without responsibility. The argument weighed on her mind like a physics problem. She found herself wanting to see Loki again just to tell him how wrong he was. 

And she expected to, every hour. As hard as she was pushing herself, she didn't imagine she could outrun him. Every time a pile of snow slid from a crag or her foot overturned a stone, she thought it was his step and her heart leaped into her mouth. She imagined him appearing at any moment, quick and capricious, to drag her away to Svartalfheim or wherever he truly meant to go. But her solitude remained unbroken, until she wondered if he was toying with her, letting her think she was escaping, when really he was following close behind all the while.

Or maybe he was nowhere close after all. Maybe Skadi had caught up with him. The first time the idea occurred to her she'd stopped in her tracks, overwhelmed by a desire to run back the way she had come, to make sure he wasn't - tied up again somewhere, with his own sinews this time. And then she thought, maybe it was all a big game of chicken and he was waiting for her to lose her nerve and turn around. She walked on.

She could see the dome ahead of her now whenever she climbed one of the pillars. There'd been no further hints of teleportation; while she didn't think Thor and Tony would give up on her, it was good to know there might be another way out of here, in case they failed. 

One - day? waking period? - when she woke up, it was snowing in small, sparse, gentle flakes. She'd been dreaming of her mother, and a vague sense of guilt lingered in her mind after she opened her eyes. A heavy fog had descended on the rock forest; she couldn't see the stars anymore. 

A noise had woken her. It was a sort of swishing, growing louder moment by moment. Whatever it was, it was coming closer. She pulled her torch out of the snow and looked for somewhere to hide. Before she could take more than a step, something huge and white came bounding out of the fog. She caught a glimpse of teeth, thick fur, pointed ears, and then she was knocked to the ground, screaming and flailing her torch at it. The stick was torn out of her hand by an irresistible force. She lay on her back, gulping down the icy air but frozen with terror. Nothing happened; no creature sank its teeth into her. After a moment, she rolled over and pushed herself to her hands and knees.

Four enormous white dogs were circling her, nearly fading into the mist. Just ahead, a blue-white light shone high up in the fog, speeding closer in time with the swishing. 

Out of the dark raced a narrow sled pulled by two more white dogs. The frame was pale as ice, the seat high like a carriage. On it sat a tall blue woman, a heavy cloak of white fur streaming from her shoulders and snow swirling behind her. Like all the frost giants, she wore next to nothing else. A quiver of arrows poked up from behind her shoulder and a rime-light burned above her, mounted on a pole behind the seat. 

She reined in the dogs, the sled sliding to a halt in front of Jane. A second sled came driving out of the fog behind her, this one carrying a man with a heavy, spiked mace and another rime-light, but no cloak. He stopped next to the woman. 

"What is that?" the woman said, peering down at Jane.

"It's a tiny woman," the man said. 

"I can see that, Bergel. Why is she so tiny?"

"Perhaps she's a dwarf."

The giantess wrinkled her nose. "I don't like dwarves."

"Aye, we should feed her to the dogs," Bergel said, blasé. "Small morsel though she is!"

"No!" Jane said. She pulled her dagger from her belt and held it awkwardly in front of her, turning in a circle to try to watch all four of the dogs at once. They were as tall as she was; she stood no chance at all. There seemed to be teeth everywhere. 

The two giants fell silent as if stunned that she could talk. Then the woman laughed uproariously, shaking the whole frame of her sled. 

"Bergel!" she called merrily. "I believe I know that dagger! Do you not?"

"It is the dagger of Thrym," Bergel said, sounding like he was reading from a textbook. 

"Yes, I know! The tiny woman has taken Thrym's dagger!" She hopped down from her sled and stood examining Jane. "Tell me, how did you come by that weapon? Do say you won it from him in battle!"

"I - " Jane said, trying to think. Her mind had gone blank. "I found it."

"Oh?" The giantess deflated a little. Then her eyes narrowed and she crouched down to look more closely. "You wear Asgardian dress."

Loki's stupid clothes, she needed a story, something, anything to explain why she was wandering around in Loki's clothes. They could hardly miss the connection to him; they were either going to think she was from Asgard herself or his - friend. If she could lie to _him_ , surely she could come up with something to tell two frost giants she didn't even know. 

But it was all too fast, too complicated. Her brain stayed frozen. The silence lengthened and she knew that whatever answer she came up with would ring false now anyway.

"I'm - I'm from Midgard," she stuttered finally. "We wear similar clothes as Asgardians do."

"Oh? Not a dwarf after all, then. How fortunate for you. What is your name, tiny woman from Midgard?"

"It's Jane. Jane Foster."

The giantess smiled ferociously. "I am Skadi, Jane Foster." Her features were fine, her eyes red and long-lashed, the whole effect at least as terrifying as it was beautiful. "You interest me. My companion and I, we are hunting a fugitive - a war criminal who has escaped from just punishment. His name is Loki Odinson. Have you seen him?"

Skadi, of course it was Skadi. And she _knew_. That was no innocent question. Saying no would be an obvious lie.

"Yes," Jane said. "On Earth - I mean, Midgard. I was working on the helicarrier where we were keeping Loki when the frost giants came. I was transported here by accident." Despite the cold, her palms felt clammy. Her stomach churned with anxiety. The dogs were still circling, and Skadi herself seemed just as feral and even more dangerous.

"Ah. Then you are not in any way in league with Loki Odinson?"

"No!" Jane said vehemently. 

"Bergel, what say you?" Skadi called over her shoulder. 

"Bergel says Jane Foster is a poor liar."

"Skadi agrees," Skadi said.

"I'm not lying! I'm not in league with Loki," Jane said. She wasn't, either, it was completely unfair of them not to believe the truth.

"Oh? And yet your Asgardian coat is a man's cut and far too large for you. Perhaps in league is too decorous a term. Perhaps you are much closer to him than that. A friend? A lover? Someone helped him escape." One lithe blue hand shot out and grasped the front of Jane's coat, paralyzing her with cold. The words swam to her distantly through a blur of deadly numbness. "Yet you are not with him now. Yes, you interest me very much."

She was lifted through the air and deposited on the floor of Skadi's sled and only then did that ruthless grip release her. There were more words; Skadi and Bergel were speaking, maybe to her, maybe to each other, but she had no energy to spare to listen. She curled into a ball as they began to move, trying to cling to the remnants of heat still left in her body. The rock formations sped by and the mist and snow flowed around them for hours that felt endless. 

Slowly, slowly, the life crept back into her limbs. She could feel her heart beating, if not her fingers. She managed to raise her head. She was curled against the frame of the sled at Skadi's feet, the snow hissing away just beneath her. They were careering out into an open space among the rock pillars, a large and roughly circular clearing. In the distance flashed the white light with the rainbow sheen. She'd almost reached her goal. So close, and she couldn't take another step closer. 

The sled skidded to an abrupt stop. 

"Ha!" Skadi said. "I see our talisman has paid her way already."

Jane wrapped her unfeeling fingers around the shafts of the frame and hauled herself up high enough to see. 

Standing in the middle of the clearing was Loki, in full battle armor, helmet, and cape, his hands behind his back. The sight of him filled her with - relief and apprehension and worry and other emotions she didn't have the wherewithal to pick apart. He was familiar, the only familiar thing on this whole damn planet.

His voice carried across the snow to them, loud and clear: "You have something of mine."


	12. Cracks in the Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, all, your comments are delightful and much appreciated! I do apologize about the painful way the chapters tend to end, it just seems to happen that way. (But you ain't seen nothing yet - wait til we get to the third act. Loki'd!)
> 
> UPDATE: I've added a passage of about 900 words to the middle of the chapter based on some concrit. It doesn't change what happens around it, but basically lengthens the action scene. Sorry to everyone who'd already read the chapter!
> 
> WARNING: This chapter contains graphic violence and harm to animals.

"Are you fooled by this deceiver's tricks, Jane Foster?" Skadi sneered. "Skadi is not."

She snapped the reins and drove the sled through the image of Loki, tearing it into a million sparkling pieces. The runners skidded as they banked, turning in a tight circle in the center of the clearing. It was all Jane could do to hold on. The world spun as the sled swung around. White light streaked over the dome, half-hidden behind the cliffs and pillars at the far side of the clearing. It illuminated everything like lightning. 

Another Loki appeared, and another and another, forming a rough ring around them. 

"Come back for another beating?" Skadi shouted. She stood on the high seat of the sled, her cloak flying behind her like a banner. "Which of you shall I destroy first? You make fine sport, Asgardian!" 

"Sport, Skadi?" one of the Lokis called. 

"I come to gut you," said another. 

"I will send your carcass to your husband to warm him as you could not do in life," a third said. 

Skadi laughed. "I have missed you, Loki of Asgard. I remember your screams fondly. How you wriggled! White and thin as a worm. How can he please you, Jane Foster? The pickings must be poor in Midgard."

There was only one thought in Jane's mind and it was: _get out of the way._ This was a hammer and an anvil she didn't want to be between. With only the vaguest idea of what she was doing, she grasped the frame of the sled and pulled herself up and over it, landing awkwardly on her side and getting a mouthful of snow. 

Skadi whistled. Jane staggered to her feet and ran straight into a snarling mass of teeth and fur. She screamed as jaws closed on her arm. Then there was a whining yelp and the dog's head jerked backward and up. Something blue flashed and the air filled with the sharp smell of metal; hot blood poured out of a gaping wound in the animal's throat onto the snow at her feet. 

She locked eyes with Loki over the dog's drooping head. His hand was buried in the fur at its nape, the other still around its body. She wrenched her arm out of its slackening jaws. The sharp canines had pierced the leather but not quite torn her flesh. 

Something moved in the darkness beyond Loki.

"Behind you!" she shrieked. 

He whirled in one graceful arc, a lustrous blue blade like a scythe appearing in his hand. It met the second dog in mid-air, slicing down to take its head clean off.

Jane's feet backed her away of their own volition. The light of the dome far behind her flashed again, outlining Loki and the dead dogs in stark black and white. Dark blood spreading on the clean snow. He turned and vaulted over the one whose throat he'd cut to her side. 

"Don't run," he said under his breath. "The hounds are faster." 

She had nothing to say. She found herself staring at his face as if it had been years since she'd last laid eyes on him. He flashed his familiar manic grin. It said _people are going to die._ She was glad to see it.

He had let his doppelgangers vanish. Skadi's two remaining hounds prowled around them. It was snowing again, big, peaceful flakes, strangely out of place. Bergel had come up alongside the pack, swinging his mace like a pendulum; Skadi herself leaped down from her sled, a bow in her hand and an arrow nocked. Its shaft was black, the point blue. 

"OK," Jane said. "All of them and... just you and me."

He moved so they were back to back. "Don't worry. You can argue them into submission. But leave Skadi for me." His tone promised retribution she probably couldn't even imagine.

"So," Skadi said. "You truly do value this human. She must be as mad as you. But it suits me well: I shall kill her first, so that you may know the pain of her death before your own." And she shot her arrow straight at Jane's heart. 

Loki pivoted into its path and snatched it out of the air, his hand moving almost too fast to see. 

"Your weapons are as slow as your wits," he said. 

Unperturbed, Skadi nocked two arrows this time and shot them together. Their paths curved apart slightly, aimed for throat and gut. Loki caught one in each hand, high and low, and used the crossed shafts to knock a third one out of the air, whistling on the heels of its fellows. It happened almost too quickly for Jane to follow, but she could feel the impacts from where she cowered behind Loki's back, the stopped force vibrating through his arms and shoulders. 

"You dance very prettily," Skadi said, fitting another arrow to the string with no sign of impatience. 

"Loki!" Jane hissed. "The other one!"

Bergel had been making his unhurried way toward them, his mace swinging in wider and wider arcs until it spun in a full circle.

Loki glanced over his shoulder. "I see him." He spun one of the arrows he'd caught and it transformed into a spear, black with a blue blade at the end. Before he could make another move, Bergel slammed the mace down - not on them, but on the ground several yards away. Jane flinched. A crack shot through the snow as two pieces of land - pulled apart?

Not land, she realized. Ice. They were standing on a frozen lake.

Bergel brought the mace down again and another crack split the surface, forming a V-shape with the other. Across from him, Skadi smashed her massive foot down on the open side of the V. The ice groaned. She did it once more and this time it _snapped_. 

She pressed down on the loose slab of ice with one foot, her bow still steady in her hands. The slab rose from the surface of the lake like a see-saw, lifting Loki and Jane with it - and sending them sliding down toward Skadi's waiting arrows. 

Jane scrabbled futilely for a hold, anything that might slow her down. Snow was slipping down all around her. She was a big, slow, easy target. 

Loki drove his spear into the ice and grabbed for her with his other hand, barely snagging her wrist. She tried to climb, but her feet found no purchase. He heaved her up just as an arrow tore into the space where she'd been. Using the spear as a stepping stone, he pulled the two of them onto the top edge of the ice and then spun them sideways, leaving an image of them behind. 

"They can't see you," he said in her ear. "Now don't move."

He vanished, leaving her alone, teetering on the edge of the bobbing mass of ice. Water ran off it, pattering onto the black lake below. The frozen surface looked too far to jump, but the piece she was on was turning and rising and falling, slow but continuous, like a lazy animal trying to shake her off. If she fell into the water, the cold would mean instant hypothermia. Damn him, this had better be a good plan.

Next to her, the illusions balanced effortlessly, poised like a heroic war memorial: the false Loki armored and defiant, the false Jane clinging to his shoulders looking like she was about to swoon. 

The image of Loki slanted his spear at Skadi and said, "It is your grave you have opened beneath us."

"You put up an even poorer fight than you did last time," Skadi said, sounding disappointed. 

Bergel swept his mace at the illusions. They were on a level with his eyes and, if they'd been real, would have had nowhere to dodge. Jane ducked reflexively; the metal whistled over her head, slicing through the false Loki and Jane. They fizzled out like failed fireworks. 

Skadi shouted in frustration. "Bergel, look to yourself! He is striking at one of us!"

But it was too late: Bergel stiffened, alarm contorting his face. A flicker of shadow ran up him: from thigh to hip to bicep to shoulder. He threw his head back, screaming. Loki flashed back into sight, braced against Bergel's shoulder, the spear in his hands buried a foot deep in the giant's eye. He twisted it like someone scooping out a melon. The screaming stopped abruptly; the huge body swayed. Loki leaped clear as it crashed to the ground. 

Skadi's shout turned into a cry of rage. " _Bergel!_ " She stepped off the slab of ice. 

It fell with a groan. The water rushed up at Jane, beautiful with snowflakes melting into it. An immense calm descended on her. She launched herself into the air as hard as she could, landing inexpertly and rolling over and over across the solid ice. The loose slab crashed half onto the surface, slopping waves over the edges and leaving an open hole of dark water. Skadi leaped over it. She had no weapon and needed none - a huge blade _grew_ out of her arm, slicing down at Loki. 

He blocked it with the spear, held horizontal between his hands. They strained against each other, Skadi's superior weight slowly forcing Loki backward toward the open water. Jane began to scramble, slipping and sliding on the water-slick ice, toward the sled. Her dagger must still be there. She still felt as calm as if she was strolling to the grocery store. It was only a matter of walking there and getting the knife. Slide, not step.

"Fight me, coward!" Skadi shouted. 

The harnessed dogs snarled at Jane. She thought she was still invisible, but they would be able to smell her anyway. She dodged around the them and groped on the floor of the sled until her fingers closed around the hilt of Thrym's dagger. 

When she looked up, the two remaining unharnessed hounds had found her. They were standing together, alert, ears pointing in her direction. One of them got ready to pounce, its muscles bunching; she threw herself behind the sled as it leaped, its feet scrabbling on the seat. She tried a clumsy slash with the dagger, but the animal jumped high over her head to land behind her. She backed up against the bundle of bags tied to the back of the sled. 

The hound growled low in its throat. One more jump and it would have her. She reached up behind her and yanked down the pole with the rime-light, thrusting it into the dog's face as it leaped. It yelped, the blue fire catching on its fur, not burning but freezing it in place until it stood in mid-bound, its teeth a mere foot from her face, an ice sculpture. 

She hurled the rime-light at the lone remaining dog. It dodged, but whined and sidled backward instead of attacking, then turned and ran off. Invisible things with freezing fire were too much for it, she thought with satisfaction.

Skadi had pushed Loki to the edge of the hole. He was bending over backward, the spear shaking in his hands. Abruptly, he pulled instead of pushing and spun it sideways, twisting Skadi to his left. She overbalanced and nearly tumbled into the water, but kicked off from the floating slab instead and used the momentum to slash at his face with her bladed arm. He raised his own - armored only by an illusion - and Jane bit down on her lip, waiting for the crunch of tearing flesh and bone. 

Instead, a pale blade shot out of Loki's arm, an exact mirror of Skadi's. The whole arm and half his face turned blue. A screeching like nails on a chalkboard filled the air as the two edges impacted. 

It was a toss-up as to which of them looked more surprised. They jerked away from each other as if they'd touched fire, Loki leaping backward onto the bobbing piece of ice in his hurry to retreat. The blade vanished from his arm and the blue color receded instantly.

"What?" Skadi said, her voice cracking with disbelief and anguish. "You are _jotun_? But then - _why_? Why try to destroy your own people?"

He was a _frost giant_? The pieces came together in Jane's mind: Loki, blue from head to toe when the giants had arrived on the helicarrier; giant's blood for the antivenom; and he was never, ever cold. Suddenly, Loki made even less sense than before. Or maybe more. No wonder he was so different from Thor. But it baffled her that he looked nothing like the rest of them.

There was no time to think through the implications. She crept closer to Skadi, struggling not to make any noise. 

"You are not my people!" Loki shouted, equally shaken. "You are not people at all. Only monsters who do nothing but destroy - bloodthirsty, cruel - a plague on the Nine Realms."

"Fool, it is yourself you abuse!"

"No," he said, the floating ice making him her equal in height. "No, I am not like the rest of you. I was raised by Odin of Asgard. An ill-favored son I may be, but I am still better than a common frost giant."

"Oh, the vaunted _All-Father_ ," Skadi said bitterly, "who steals our children and teaches them to murder us. Does he mistake that vainglorious title for truth?"

"He did not steal me - I was abandoned. Left to die by one of you! Laufey, the _noblest_ of your race, was still barbaric enough to kill his own son."

"The accursed Odin lies! We do not abandon babes," Skadi snapped. She paused and then said, her voice grim, "Laufey's son? We are kin, then. Laufey was my grandmother's brother."

"Then you are as tender and loving as all my family. Cousin."

"You mock when you should weep, unnatural creature. This is a matter for sorrow." Her mouth twisted, her beautiful features fierce and sad. 

"Sentiment from you, Skadi? It seems all my relatives are soft with it. Is this the part where we hug?"

"No," she said, raising her bow again. "You must die. We do not forgive what you have done. I do not forgive. But for our kinship's sake, I will return your human friend to her world unharmed."

"But kill me, dear cousin?" He laughed, unafraid. "Blood doesn't go far in Jotunheim."

"Not so, Lie-smith," she said, her tone hardening. "I do you a favor. Have you not heard who sits on the throne of Asgard?"

The mockery disappeared; he went as still as an ice statue himself. "Is it no longer Odin? Who, then?"

"Your enemy."

"That describes a lot of people."

"This is one even Jotunheim fears to oppose. Be grateful I kill you before he finds you."

"Why not tell me, if you're going to kill me anyway?" He spread his hands in a parody of a gesture of peace.

Skadi smiled. "I am already doing you one favor. Two would be too generous."

The bow bent. Jane lunged and slashed the dagger across the back of Skadi's leg. Black blood poured from the wound. The drops were cold where they touched her skin. Skadi fell to one knee, crying out in pain; the arrow flew wide. She twisted, her bladed arm slicing blindly toward Jane. 

The sharp edge glittered. She could almost hear it rending the air. She recoiled, falling backward onto the snow. Not quite far enough - 

Loki leaped from the floating ice. He slammed into Skadi, arms locking around her neck. She tried to rise to her feet while favoring her hamstrung leg, but his weight dragged her forward, pulling the two of them into the water. He had another blue blade raised in his hand when they went under. 

They didn't come up again. Jane crept to the edge of the hole, shivering with cold and shock, but in a distant way. She still felt calm: more than calm, disassociated, like all this was happening to someone else, far away. She watched the place where Skadi and Loki had disappeared. It seemed very important to wait. The surface of the water rose and fell gently as if the lake was breathing. A thin sheen of ice was beginning to form over it. 

Halfway across the lake's surface, lights flickered below the ice. They started out small and grew and grew, a neon-bright blue, moving in an eerie, silent dance. Sometimes two of them would come together and then break apart, or one would go out, or fragment into multiple points of light. Jane watched them with a feeling of foreboding. She couldn't place them, couldn't imagine what phenomenon was creating them.

A spot on the ice about 30 feet away from her flared as if a searchlight had switched on beneath it. It _cracked_ and a geyser of water burst out. Like something had hit the surface from below. Then the light went out and the lake subsided into silence again, the lights dancing more furiously than ever. 

Jane scrambled to her feet and backed away. The calm inside her crystallized until it might have been frozen itself. They were fighting down there, on the floor of the lake, with - blue fire and ice and magic and who knew what else. Monsters and gods, creatures from other worlds. She was superfluous here.

She ran awkwardly for the shore. Twin streaks of light shot beneath her feet, making her falter. They slammed into the ice from underneath, opening a crack between her and solid land. She switched direction, searching for a safe route. 

A screech shattered the silence; in the middle of the lake, chunks of ice cannoned into the air as if a battering ram had smashed them from below. The fountain of water that accompanied them sprayed so high that a fine mist of droplets reached her, frosting on her hair and clothing. Skadi appeared amidst the chaos, clawing her way back onto the surface. Something had a hold of her under the water, dragging her back down every time she gained a foot of ground. She roared in rage and slashed at the churning waves. With a sudden, ugly jerk, she was yanked back under. 

Only for a moment: a strip of ice crumbled, falling away into pieces as a long, sinuous black body forced its way through in a deadly glide. A narrow, eyeless head rose from the water. Skadi had her arms wrapped around its mouth as it tried to open it, hundreds of needle-sharp teeth glinting. It dove, taking her down again. Along its ridged back ran the agile of figure of Loki, blue flames bright in either hand as he vanished below the surface with them.

There was a silence during which Jane imagined she could feel the water roiling beneath her feet. Then the eel's giant head burst through the original hole in the ice, flailing back and forth, smashing the two figures clinging to it first to one side, then the other. It shook them off like drops of water and writhed back down into the lake.

Skadi rolled to her feet, limping and bleeding from multiple wounds, but Loki seemed nimble and unhurt still. He leaped back onto the bobbing fragment of ice, shattered almost in two by the eel. It turned a brilliant blue under his feet. He moved in a blur of wild energy, like a damaged live wire spitting electric sparks. He was laughing - or screaming - Jane couldn't tell, only that his face was contorted almost beyond recognition. The tendons stood out in his neck.

She heard him shriek through the crashing of ice and water: "Favor, Skadi? I have your favor here! Come and collect your debt!"

Skadi had lost her cloak, but her quiver was still hanging off one shoulder, a sparse handful of arrows remaining. Her injuries seemed only to infuriate her. She shook beads of water off her skin and crouched, then sprang directly for Loki on his precarious perch - 

And crashed into nothing, the illusion shattering into air. She slammed into the jagged edge of the hole, half in and half out of the water, and screamed in pain. She twisted, scrambling to get Loki back in her sights. 

Loki and the real ice raft reappeared a bare few feet from her. He had torn a long splinter of ice from the floating mass and transformed it into one of his blue blades, a wicked, serrated spear. In one quick, monstrous stroke, he drove it into her abdomen, all the dark force of his revenge animating the blow.

Skadi screamed again, her back arching in agony - but she wasn't finished yet. She grasped the blade with both hands and gave it a furious jerk, tumbling Loki back down into the water with her, and wrapped her wiry arms around his neck. They went under again, the lake frothing around them.

Jane stood petrified, rooted to the spot. She watched the spot where they'd disappeared. The water was calming, waves smoothing out into stillness. The minutes lengthened. There were no more lights under the ice. The dark hole hypnotized her, guarding its secret close. One of them had to be dead by now. Even giants and demigods couldn't survive everything.

Almost against her will, she stole closer, one dragging step at a time. The eel might reappear. Or Skadi. 

Maybe neither of them would come back up. Then she would be alone.

She began to shiver, her ice-cold calm finally starting to thaw. She wrapped her arms around herself and waited. She could wait and see if he was dead, at least. She'd been willing to stay while he died of poison; this was no different. 

Snowflakes had already begun to collect on the new layer of ice when Loki finally burst through it. He heaved himself over the edge of the hole and lay there, water streaming from him. He took deep, controlled breaths, not the kind of gasping Jane would have expected from someone who'd nearly drowned. She came closer, looking down at him, but he paid no attention to her, staring up at the sky with unblinking eyes. She didn't know if he was stunned or hurt or lost in thought.

"Did you kill her?" Jane asked finally. 

He woke to her presence all at once. "Staked to the lake floor with her own arrows. I hope the eels make a slow job of her." 

He sprang to his feet and grabbed Jane's forearm. His hands, she could see now, were no longer black, but scars remained; she could feel them against her skin. 

"You ran away," he said, dragging her toward the edge of the lake, skirting the cracks. "You ran away and handed yourself straight over to one of my enemies, who proceeded to use you against me _just like I warned you about._ Did you think this a game?"

But that was hardly the first thing on Jane's mind. 

"You're a frost giant?" she said. "But then you can't really be Thor's brother. Does he know?" 

His shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. "Oh yes, Jane, he knows." He stopped pulling her along, changed direction, then seemed to change his mind back and continued on his original way. Jane's feet slipped on the snow as she tried to keep up. 

"What possessed you?" he snarled. "You could easily have died in your first five minutes out here. Of the cold, not to speak of the jotuns."

"I was trying to get back to Earth," she said. "Since you _broke your promise._ How come you look like a human? An Asgardian, I mean."

"It's Odin's magic," he said, as if that explained everything. "I don't control it."

"But if you're a giant, how come you're normal-sized?"

He whirled on her, bending down so they were eye to eye. "Because I'm a deformed frost giant. A monster among monsters. Just like you said."

"I never said that!"

"You did, the very first day we met."

Maybe she'd said something like that, she'd said a lot of things. All of which he merited. She still felt a little guilty. "Yeah, because you killed hundreds of people, not because you're a frost giant!" Killer of hundreds of people, she reminded herself, in a rote kind of way.

"Perhaps they're not unrelated," he said. He turned away, pulling her along in his wake again. His clothing crackled as he moved, stiff with frozen water. His hair had clumps of ice in it, too, overlaid with the snowflakes that were still falling - and not melting when they touched him. The hand gripping her arm was cold as iron and just as implacable. 

They reached Bergel's sled. Instead of barking, the dogs cowered away from him, silent. He pawed at the bags lashed tightly to the back of the frame. 

"How could you try to destroy Jotunheim if you're a jotun?" she said. 

"Don't you start," he muttered. "Why everyone has this great love for the frost giants I will never understand."

She didn't think any explanation could make sense anyway.

"What are you looking for?" 

"Drink," he said. He found a flask and poured its contents down his throat, then tossed it away with a grimace and resumed his search. "If you do this again, I'll - you _stabbed_ Skadi."

"What?" she said, trying to keep up with his changes of topic. 

"She offered to take you to Midgard and you stabbed her. Why?" He paused, movements slowing, seeming to lose his train of thought. It spared her the need to come up with an answer. 

It hadn't even occurred to her that she could have let Skadi kill him. Anyway, he probably would've won the fight even if she'd done nothing. At least this way she was kind of on his good side.

"Svartalfheim isn't far enough," he muttered. "Has to be somewhere further, somewhere no one's ever been. There are other realms, countless undiscovered ones yet." Suddenly he turned to her, ludicrously cheerful. "New worlds, Jane, how would you like that?"

He was all over the place. His urgency infused her with a deep sense of dread, piercing through the calm that had gotten her through the violence. 

"We're going?" she asked. 

"Yes, now, we can't wait any longer. Reinforcements will be coming from Gastropnir." He gestured vaguely at the white dome. One of the silver towers was lit up now, too. White lightning crackled between it and the top of the cupola.

"Now?" Jane said, trying not to sound panicked. Not now, not now, not yet, she needed more time. Tony needed more time. If they went any further away, to even more distant planets, her probability field might be out of range no matter how much power Tony pumped into the teleporter. 

"Yes, now. In a moment. I can manage it in a moment," Loki said, giving the sled a frustrated kick. He slumped against it and covered his face with his hand. 

She realized with a feeling of vertigo that he was terrified. Something had scared him to the bone. He was trying to run away, as fast and as far as he could. And if she couldn't get away from him _right now_ , she was going with him, so far from Earth that she'd never find her way back again. 

His grip on her wasn't hard, but she knew she might as well try to break open handcuffs with her bare fingers as tear his hand away. She had to stop him from teleporting them - distract him somehow, if she couldn't change his mind. 

He took a deep breath and seemed to come to a decision. Then he turned on his heel, taking her with him.

"Let's go," he said. 

In desperation, she reached out and grabbed his other hand, slipping her fingers into his palm. He went rigid. His eyes flew to her face, his mouth opening in surprise. It was the first time she'd touched him out of anything but necessity or accident.

"Who's in Asgard?" she said, thoughts racing. "What enemy of yours?" That must be it, what had made him so jumpy. 

His hand tightened around hers convulsively. The white dome flashed far behind him, throwing his face into shadow, but she could sense the struggle going on in him. She started to feel a little sick. It must be bad; she _had_ to get back and tell Thor.

"Well, you heard," he said finally, his voice light and insincere. "Skadi didn't say." 

"But you know. It's obvious you know who it is." 

He didn't try to deny it. "No one you've heard of," he said. 

She stepped closer, gathering up every ounce of persuasiveness and trustworthiness she possessed. "If this person is your enemy, they're mine now, too. That's what you said. Since we're in this together, I think I should know what we're up against."

He stared at her with a kind of incredulity. The grip on her arm hadn't loosened, but at least he hadn't transported them anywhere yet. 

"Are you offering to _help_ me?" he said. He laughed softly, hysterically. "So tiny and so presumptuous. You don't even know what you'd be fighting."

"So tell me."

"No," he said. "He won't find us. There must be places in the universe even he hasn't discovered. Some crevice somewhere so well hidden..." He trailed off. "We have to hurry."

She played one final card. Because she hadn't forgotten that he'd said her name in his sleep. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his with as much feeling as she could muster under the circumstances. Just pretend he was - maybe not Thor, but someone else, anyone. Donald. Think about Donald. 

He went perfectly still. His lips were cold, unmoving; his hand on her arm didn't slacken. Dismay fluttered in her stomach - it wasn't working, he was going to push her away and laugh and teleport them to the back end of the universe somewhere. It was going to be really embarrassing.

Then his mouth softened and his head tilted and he pressed back against her. His lips parted, catching her bottom one between them. It was a tiny, gentle movement. Something inside her stirred. Abruptly, this didn't feel like a ploy anymore. Even with her eyes closed, she couldn't pretend it was anyone else she was kissing: he tasted like alcohol, he smelled like lake water and ashes and leather, he felt cold as Jotunheim. She felt him draw breath against her mouth and suddenly he kissed her harder. His hands released her, flying up to cup her face, tilt her head back.

She was free, but for a moment she was paralyzed, teetering on a knife edge of uncertainty, unable to stop what she'd started. Her stomach did a terrifying flip. Then reason won out and she tore herself away and ran. 

A glance over her shoulder showed her Loki, his eyes opening slowly, a dazed expression on his face. Then he shot her a glare seething with fury and pique and sprang into motion, speeding after her like an arrow. She raced for the white dome, knowing he would catch her, hope dying even as her lungs burst with effort. At least she had tried. She hoped the definition of harm was broad.

And for once, fortune smiled on her. Between one step and the next, Jotunheim vanished; space shifted around her, becoming a silent forest of silver trees, the top of a high tower, a crowded hall full of strangely dressed people. She ran through vast distances, each footstep falling on a new world. She ran through the universe until a stitch stabbed at her side. 

Loki followed, raging. He appeared behind her in a long underground room with rough stone walls. 

"Jane!" he snarled. She had time to hear the echo before she was gone. 

He almost seized her in a library, materializing beside her instead of behind, his fingers just brushing her coat. She didn't look. A burst of speed took her out of reach. But he'd been closer that time, like he was getting better at finding her.

She saw him twice more, almost as close; then, in what looked like a submarine corridor, he caught her, his hand closing on her elbow. The sudden jerk spun her around into his arms. He pushed her up against the wall, teeth bared. The sound of engines hummed in the narrow space.

"I can't hurt you," he said. "Do you like this better?"

He kissed her again, not painfully or angrily like she would have expected, but with calculated passion - deliberate and aggressive. Distraction, she thought. He was doing exactly what she'd just done. Hoping she'd be so flustered she forgot to try to run. And paying her back on his own terms. She _thought_. It was a little difficult at the moment. He'd stolen the last of her breath and it was hot and loud and he was _right there_. His hand was sliding up her back as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 

Her feet were still on the ground. He'd forgotten: as long as she could walk, she could teleport. She stepped _into_ the curve of his body, deepening the kiss - he made a noise at the back of his throat, she noted with a spark of mean-spirited triumph - and he melted away along with everything else. 

He didn't get close again, but she saw him several times, always trailing further behind, getting slower and more tired. He shouted at her to stop, threatened her with things she didn't bother to listen to. She was dragging him home like a wolf on a chain, right into Thor's waiting arms.

When the Stark Tower physics lab swam into sight around her, she could have cried with joy. It was night and the lights were flickering on and off. Piles of cables covered the floor, linking an assortment of generators and reactors and other things she didn't recognize. Thor was holding two cables together, shouting at Tony, who was doing something at a computer screen. Pepper stood next to him, her hands full of papers. And next to her, looking frantic, his hair standing up in all directions -

"Erik!" Jane shouted, a huge grin appearing on her lips in spite of everything. The sight of him made it real, made it feel like home.

They all fell silent, staring. Thor dropped the cables and took a step toward her. She saw him take in her appearance in one glance: the coat, the scar, her face flushed from running. There was probably blood somewhere on her, she couldn't remember.

Tony let out an audible sigh. There were dark circles under his eyes. "Welcome home, Dorothy," he said. "Seen Toto anywhere?"

She felt Loki appear behind her. He made a grab for her, but Thor was quicker, crossing the space between them in a blink and whirling her out of reach, safe in the crook of his arm. Mjolnir flew to his other hand. 

Outside the window, one of the neighboring buildings lit up with white light, a moment of eye-watering brilliance before it went dark, the normal lights dead. A second later, the lab was filled with the same radiance, blazing out of every object in the room. Thor's arm tightened around Jane; Pepper screamed and someone knocked something over with a crash. When the blaze faded, the Tower's own lights stayed off for only a few seconds before flickering back on. Tony clutched at his heart reactor, slightly gray in the face, but it still glowed.

Loki stood in the center of the room, the cables like black snakes around his feet. He hadn't budged. He looked pale with fatigue, but otherwise expressionless, with no hint of anger or fear or mockery about him. His eyes were fixed on Thor as if no one else existed in the world.

"Brilliant move," he said. "You've brought the jotuns down on your precious Earth."

Thor pointed the hammer at him, a stubborn set to his jaw. "Then unless you want to return to their tender care, you had better help us fight them off."


	13. Dance for Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor fans, I hope this pleases you! Thor non-fans, I hope I can win you over. 
> 
> A note just in case anyone missed it: the previous chapter was edited after posting with added text. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading!

Thor wasn't tired, but he was weary of this fight. Jotuns were as tough as ancient stones - he had killed none of the small party that had invaded the tower, and they had withdrawn with the sunrise. But in truth, it wasn't the jotuns but the humans who had made him long for the battle to end: Jane, Pepper, and Erik, like figurines of glass in a melee of clubs and hammers. One blow would break them - so he watched them with the eyes of an eagle and stopped every blow, his nerves singing with the knowledge that one misstep would mean a death. 

It was made more difficult by the fact that Loki occupied the other half of his attention - Loki, freed from Jotunheim? Loki with _Jane_? Loki fighting alongside him? The latter felt so natural in the heat of battle, when there was no time for words or thought, he could almost pretend nothing had changed between them. He had even seen - or perhaps only imagined - Loki drive back a jotun from a stairwell as Jane ran up it. It made him feel that he was in a dream and might wake up any second. Yet the vision stayed and planted in him a mad, desperate hope. Perhaps his brother was finally back: the real Loki, the one he'd known before the darkness began eating at him. 

After Mjolnir had knocked his last opponent out the windows, he ran up the stairs from floor to floor, looking for Jane. Everyone had scattered in the fight, but he was sure he'd seen the breakable ones retreating upwards. 

He found her at last, on a floor where the walls had been crushed so you could see from one side of the building to the other, furniture scattered and glass shattered all over the ground. She stood by the east window of a half-destroyed room. She was watching the sun rise, one hand pressed against the glass. The other held a cell phone to her ear. The light of dawn outlined her fingers in red.

"It's spelled with a J," she murmured into the phone. "J-o-t-u-n-h-e-i-m. Please, just keep an eye on the news in case they come to the west coast. Please? I'm sorry, Mom, I can't come home right now. I know. I know. This isn't like those other times..." She said less and less and the words grew quieter and quieter as the conversation went on. Finally, she flipped the phone shut and sighed. 

"Jane?" he said.

She flew into his arms. He spun her around and held her, light as a feather. 

"I missed you," she said. "Every day. Where's the god of thunder when you need him, huh?"

"Searching the universe for you, as you did once for me," he said. "I nearly worried myself sick. That's quite difficult for one of us." The thought of her in that frozen realm, surrounded by frost giants and all alone - or so he'd believed - had robbed him of his sleep night after night. He'd despaired of seeing her again more than once, but he couldn't give up hope as long as there was a chance. 

She smiled in the enchanted, silly way that meant he'd done something winning. "You say the nicest things." And kissed him boldly. 

She felt different: thinner, her grip stronger, her hair longer and tangled when he pushed his hands into it. She was so _real_ and tangible, sweeping away the poor substitute of memory, that a rush of fierce tenderness made him crush her tight in his arms. He kissed her neck until she sighed. 

She smelled of leather and sweat and lightning and something else, a scent that reminded him, with a pang, of home. One so familiar he could scarcely put a name to it, until he remembered she was wearing one of Loki's coats. The incongruity of it struck him with a deep sense of wrongness. They were two worlds that should never have met. The fact that they had, so palpably, rooted in him an urgent desire to know what had happened in Jotunheim.

"I can hardly believe you're real," she said. "I can hardly believe I'm back... A couple more days in that place and you would've had two crazy people to look after."

She said it in such a distant way that he felt there were miles of story to tell between them. And it could hardly be pleasant. The scar on her face was stark and fresh, a clean cut made with a good knife. "Jane," he said, tracing it gently. "Tell me what befell you?"

"There's so much," she said, pressing her hands to her temples. "It feels like I was living another life. How long were we gone?"

"It has been a little less than a month since you vanished before my eyes. Tony labored without rest to return you to us." Tony had even shown him how to work some of his machinery, dull on the surface but strangely intricate and detailed inside, like everything in Midgard. 

"A _month_?" she said. "But - how? That means I must have wandered for weeks - and been in that house for almost as long - "

"But it felt like mere days in such pleasant company," Loki broke in, stepping toward them through the ruins of the walls. Glass crunched under his feet.

Thor hadn't seen Loki in months and the fight had allowed no opportunity for a reunion. It was peculiar how memory worked: in his mind's eye, he saw always the Loki of days gone, slight and secretive, clever with counsel, easily offended, full of an endless store of jokes and surprises that could turn the dullest day into sport. The younger brother, to be protected even when he had outgrown his failures with weapons and learned to master magic instead. It came as a shock now whenever he saw this distorted version, somehow taller and broader, paler and more callous. All the old smiles had turned sharp as knives. Most jarring of all, he brimmed with a vicious hatred Thor could not understand the origins of. Even so, he could not look at Loki without seeing both, the brother and the stranger, two overlaid images so clashing it gave him a headache. Every time he hoped that it would be the first of them to look back at him. 

Not so now. Loki was in his battered armor and leather, whether illusion or reality, Thor could not tell. He looked ragged around the edges, with new scars on his face and hands, and his resentful eyes were fixed on Jane.

Jane's back stiffened and she half-turned. Her hand tightened on Thor's. 

"Don't let go of me," she said.

She didn't sound afraid, but the way she clung to his hand made his heart clench. _Maybe I'll pay her a visit,_ he heard an echo.

"What have you done?" he said to Loki. Then to Jane: "What is it?" If Loki had hurt her, he would... He didn't know. The thought of striking his little brother still made him flinch. It had not become easier in the doing. Nor could it undo anything that might have happened.

"I?" Loki said. "I've brought your love back to you, safe and sound, after you lost her in Jotunheim."

"I'm all right, Thor, he didn't do anything," Jane said. "And it was really more the other way around, Loki." 

Thor could not picture it either way around. At least it was a relief to know she was unhurt. "You came back with Jane," he said to Loki, "you fought the jotuns with me. Are you staying? Are you...?" Better? Who you once were? he wanted to finish, but the words weren't right. He'd never been the one who was good with words. 

Loki smiled sweetly and held out his hands. "Why, of course. Haven't you heard? I've reformed. I've given up my nasty ways to come and fight at your side."

Thor knew mockery when he heard it. It had been foolish to hope, but he could still taste bitter disappointment on his tongue. "What game are you playing?"

"It is no game," Loki said. "I've seen the error of my ways. Ask Jane. She has a healing touch - she can cure anyone."

"Don't," Jane said. "Don't ruin this." The curtain of her hair hid her face, but she sounded - oddly despairing.

"Why would you ever imagine I'd do anything else?" Loki said. "You can't take it back, you know, not any of it. You're no freer now than you were there."

"I know why you're doing this," Jane snapped. "And I think it's pathetic. Don't think I don't understand you."

They were speaking a language completely foreign to him - they seemed to have forgotten he was there. It was strange beyond the telling to be in a room with Loki and not be the focus of his attention.

"Yes, you do learn quickly," Loki said. "That was a low trick for a novice."

"It worked, didn't it? Explain that if you dare."

"A prelude. A taste of things to come."

Jane recoiled. "Oh, please," she said. "You never keep your promises."

"I do when it suits me. How confused Thor looks! I'm sure you're eager to explain all this to him, Jane."

"It's plain that your comments are unwelcome, Loki," Thor said. "I won't be taken in by whatever web you hope to spin."

Loki rolled his eyes. "But you always are. Never the sharpest - " 

A blast of energy bowled him over in mid-sentence. 

Iron Man hovered above the ground, his armored hands extended, still glowing. They brightened as Tony prepared to shoot again. 

"No, wait!" Jane said. 

Tony paused. "Wait?" he said. "Uh, what? Did you say wait? Jarvis, check the audio, it must be malfunctioning."

"Yes! I mean - " Jane said. "He's - isn't he supposed to be on our side now? We were all fighting the giants together!"

Loki was picking himself up off the ground. Erik and Pepper had come up behind Tony.

"I don't think we agreed on that," Tony said. "Pepper, do you have the minutes from the battle against the frost giants? 'Cause I'm pretty sure 'not shooting the would-be conqueror of Earth' never actually passed as a resolution."

"Tony, my friend, please hold your fire," Thor said. "At least until I can - " Gain some idea of what all this meant. Discover what had happened in Jotunheim and make sense of whether his brother was an enemy or a - someone who didn't need to be attacked.

"I think you should shoot him," Erik said. 

"Erik!" Jane said. "Can we all keep the trigger-happiness under control here? Nobody shoot anybody."

"There's someone in the lobby, sir," Jarvis chimed into the confusion. 

"I'm not taking drop-ins at the moment, Jarvis," Tony said. 

"It's the United States Air Force, sir." 

There was a brief silence. 

"I just had the best idea," Tony said. "Thor, grab your brother, we're flying down."

"No, don't let go of me," Jane insisted. "Not even for a second, he's waiting for that!" 

She sounded so emphatic that he thought it wisest to take heed. He shrugged at Tony. Things were getting more and more confusing. 

"Well, I'm not carrying him," Tony said. 

"No one is _carrying_ me anywhere," Loki hissed. 

There was another silence.

"I guess we could take the elevator," Pepper suggested.

***

People were not meant to travel in boxes, Thor thought. Especially not so many people in such a small one.

Loki stood in one corner, fuming. Everyone else was crowded in the opposite side of the elevator. No one spoke. The ride seemed to take an eternity. Thor resisted letting out a breath of relief when the door finally pinged open. 

"After you," Tony said to Loki.

Loki shot him a glare and stepped out into the entrance hall. He'd gone no more than a few feet before there was a shout; the sudden crack of gunshots made the humans cower. 

Thor barreled out into the spray of bullets. They itched where they glanced off him. "Stop! There are people here!" 

The entrance hall was as wide and bright as the rest of Stark Tower, white stone and glass magnifying the early morning light. One man stood alone in front of the revolving doors, precise and spare in the dark uniform of a Midgardian soldier, the gun steady in his hands. Thor had met him before: James Rhodes, a friend of Tony's, a man Thor liked for his air of sincerity and trustworthiness. He added courage to that list, for standing up to an Asgardian with nothing more than a useless Earth weapon.

Loki had remained in front of the elevator, blocking much of the door, one arm raised against the bullets. Thor couldn't fathom why he was still here, following them almost as if he were... one of them. The seed of hope began to sprout again. Perhaps he'd been too quick to dismiss what his brother had said as mockery. Or Loki was plotting some scheme against them, as he had been when he'd allowed himself to be captured in the land of Germany. It was best to be on guard.

Tony burst out from behind them, making both of them duck. Thor felt the heat from the armor's jets pass over his head. 

"You're right, you're right," Tony said to Rhodes, landing in front of them. "I'm a jerk for never calling. But this is really kind of overkill."

"You want to explain what the hell this son of a bitch is doing here?" Rhodes said, indicating Loki with his gun.

"You're not going to like the explanation, but: he literally appeared out of thin air."

"You're right, I don't like it," Rhodes said. "But I can believe it, considering a whole alien army just appeared out of thin air. And we know who was in charge the last time that happened."

Loki barked a laugh at that and, when Rhodes stared at him in disbelief, raised his hands peaceably. 

The situation seemed far less amusing to Thor. "An army?" he said. "They are still coming? Tell me how many and where." A raiding party was one thing, an army another. Since the jotuns obviously had some form of transport, they could send as many warriors as they liked to Midgard - as they had done a thousand years before, if the stories could be believed. He had no reinforcements, no way to call on the might of Asgard to repel them this time. He misliked those numbers. 

He felt Jane slip her hand into his; the others had followed them out of the elevator.

Rhodes kept his gun trained on Loki. "Don't know how many yet, but they sure seem to be the same faction who broke him out of prison a few months ago: big, blue, and they pack a punch. They keep appearing all over the city and then heading to some kind of base camp in Central Park. I came to evacuate you, but if we can bring in their leader, we might be able to stop this now."

"He's not leading them," Jane said. "He's running from them."

"You make it seem so ignominious," Loki said, sounding hurt. 

"So... right," Rhodes said. "Dr. Foster, is it? What you're saying is - you think they might leave if we hand him over?"

"No!" Jane said, even quicker than Thor's own protest. 

"Whoa there, Mama Bear," Tony said. "Someone's feeling protective."

"Are you crazy? Do you have any idea what I went through to get him back here?" Jane said, glaring around at everyone and ending with Thor. "That was the whole point of going to Jotunheim!"

"I know," he reassured her. "I'm in agreement with Jane. Loki is not going to the jotuns." He wasn't sure if he should be happy to have an ally or unsettled at her vehemence. It was becoming more and more imperative to find out what had happened during the last month.

"For once, we agree," Loki said. "How refreshing to have two such redoubtable champions, but I'm afraid that's where the fraternity ends." 

He vanished. 

"What the hell?" Rhodes said. 

Damn, Thor thought with a stab of frustration and loss, he should have - he didn't know, knocked Loki out with Mjolnir, maybe. It was not so easy to confine his brother, but he could have tried something, if this sudden mess of complications hadn't thrown him off balance. Now Loki could be anywhere, anywhere at all in the Nine Realms and he might never find him again.

"Did he just teleport?" Tony asked. "Slippery bastard."

"No, no!" Jane said, clinging to Thor. "He's invisible, he's got some kind of plan - "

Everyone froze as Erik made a choking noise. He rose to his tiptoes as if pulled on a string, hands scrabbling at his neck. Loki faded into view behind him, holding Erik between himself and the others as a living shield, hand tight on his throat. 

"Selvig, you are always so useful," he said. 

"Erik!" Jane cried.

"Loki," Thor growled. "Release him!" And cursed his moment of foolish sentiment. 

"Let me think... no. And don't try to shoot me, please, you'll only break him. Now, unless you want to see the inside of Erik's throat, do exactly as I say."

"All right, easy. What do you want?" Rhodes said. He didn't lower the gun. 

"I wasn't talking to you. Jane, come over here," Loki said, quite calm. His eyes danced with cold laughter as he met Thor's gaze over Erik's head. 

So that was why he was still here: he wanted Jane. He had recognized what a weakness she was almost the moment Thor had returned to Asgard after his banishment and he must have dreamed of such an opportunity. That incomprehensible hatred that drove him to destroy everything Thor held dear. And he had fooled her in some way. She was resisting going with him, but she had defended him earlier. He might even have put her under some spell of his.

Mjolnir hummed in Thor's hand, in tune with his anger. 

"So this is your game now? To use Jane against me?" he said harshly.

"Believe it or not, this isn't about you," Loki said. "Now, Jane?"

"Your quarrel is with me, Loki," Thor said. "Do not stoop so low as to involve Jane in it." 

Jane squeezed his hand once, briefly, like a signal. 

"I just _said_ it wasn't about you - "

So quickly it caught him off guard, Jane released his hand and ran - not toward Loki, but toward the doors to the outside. 

Loki dropped Erik like a sack and darted after her. In tandem, Rhodes fired his gun, Tony shot a repulsor blast, and Thor threw Mjolnir. All three attacks converged on Loki before he'd covered half the distance, sending him hurtling across the stone floor. 

Jane dashed back to Thor almost before Mjolnir could return to his hand. 

"Quick thinking," he said, trying to hide the fact that the trick had nearly stopped his heart. 

Loki rolled to his feet, took one look at the weapons and angry faces directed at him, and disappeared once more. 

"Shit," Rhodes said, turning in a circle. 

"Jarvis," Tony said. "Infrared sensors. How many people are in the lobby?"

"I'm reading six, sir."

"His body temperature is lower than normal," Jane said, dragging Thor over to Erik, who was gasping on his knees. 

"Do I want to know how you know that?" Tony said. "Jarvis, scan for anything between human and room temperature."

"Nothing on the scan, sir."

Erik accepted Jane's supporting arm, but it was Thor he spoke to. "Don't let her out of your sight," he gasped. He gave Jane a troubled, wary look. 

"Erik?" Jane said, confused. 

"I think it's best for us to leave," Rhodes said. "Before he comes back. That's one hell of a stalker you've picked up, Dr. Foster."

"Rhodey - " Tony said in a tone Thor recognized all too well. 

As did Rhodes. "Don't argue, Tony. All civilians are being cleared out for their own protection. The city's under military authority. We've learned some lessons from the last time."

"Hey, I'd love to evacuate, it sounds thrilling. But you know I can't go. All my stuff is here."

"Just once in my life," Rhodes said, sounding as if he was developing a headache, "I want to make a reasonable suggestion and get a reasonable answer from you. Are you going to let me in on whatever dumbass idea you've got now?"

"With the greatest respect to the United States Armed Forces," Tony said, "I can do it better. Call it privatizing world defense. Jarvis, make the calls we talked about, will you? It might take a while for some of them to get through."

Rhodes holstered his gun, but the atmosphere remained no less tense. "A lot of people aren't going to like this, Tony. You're playing in their sandboxes. You can't seriously be thinking about taking an army on yourself?"

"Why not? It worked out great last time."

"Yeah, real great, you went to outer space and almost died."

"Like I said: great. Adventuresome. Everyone likes outer space."

"He will not fight alone," Thor said. Jotuns were his territory, army or no. "Tony is right: I swore to protect your realm from harm. I know how to fight frost giants, and they know me and fear me. This tower is the safest place in the city while I am here."

It was getting brighter; there were uniformed men on the streets outside, driving in vehicles past the windows. A huge armored craft rolled steadily by.

"I ought to drag you all out of here. What exactly are you planning to do if Loki comes back?" Rhodes said. "Do I need to remind you that he's still a wanted war criminal?"

That was his territory, too. "I will control my brother. If he comes back. And I do not believe you could drag me anyway, James Rhodes, nor do I advise you to try."

"He's coming back," Jane said. "He's definitely coming back. Thor, there are some things I really need to tell you."

***

The shower ran softly as Thor sat in front of the half-open door. Tony had moved them all to the top floors, formerly his exclusive haunt, which he had been rebuilding in between his numberless other projects. The space was open and light, sparsely furnished and overlooking the helipad and the city. Thor could see out toward the park where the jotuns were burrowing themselves in as easily as he could see into the room where Jane was bathing. He kept a watchful eye on the empty room, even as his mind's eye was elsewhere.

The sound of the water could not soothe him. His mind charged from thought to thought with a ferocity almost painful. That had been a tale both better and worse than he'd hoped and it had whipped up a storm of agitation in him. Which he did not like: emotions could not be wrestled or beaten or hammered or reasoned with. They made every decision murky and every action questionable, leaving no clear and sure path. 

For what the frost giants had done to Loki - he hadn't expected gentleness, but he would never have imagined _that_. His hand clenched on Mjolnir's handle. Even knowing there was justice in their revenge did not ease his anger. It was a prince of Asgard they had laid hands on and his own lost, wayward brother-stranger. The jotuns would feel his wrath before they were finished. And yet he could hardly be less furious at Loki himself: Loki, leaving a wake of chaos, dragging everything into darkness wherever he went. The more destruction he caused, the more such punishments there would be, he feared. 

He would simply have to be more vigilant. No one else would be allowed to succeed.

"Are you watching?" Jane called from the shower. "If he gets in here somehow, I _will_ go nuclear."

"Anyone who tries to pass will not live to tell the tale," he said. Though at least their last sight would be a sublime one.

He stole a glance around the door. Jane's silhouette looked fuzzy through the frosted glass of the shower, but even so... He could still hardly believe that she had come back to him from Jotunheim. When he had realized what had gone wrong, he'd been on the edge of despair. As the days went by, he'd become more and more certain that she was lost - gone in his stead, dead when he should have protected her. Now here she was, not so fragile as he had thought, it seemed. Venturing into the serpent's lair, putting steel to giants - even the All-Father would have to respect that. As for Thor, he would not deny that he found it... rather appealing. 

And she had brought Loki back to him, and he had sworn an oath to her: something honorable, at least, even if it had not been done willingly. He could not fault Jane for doing it. She was alive, and Loki was alive, and she was safe from him for good, and it was the reason Loki was even still here, somewhere. Yet he wished it had been possible by some other means. The thought of Loki alone with Jane, the image of him nearly snatching her from before Thor's eyes, the knowledge of that terribly permanent bond - they gnawed at him, they vexed him. Now he would never have her to himself again; Loki had insinuated himself between them, insubstantial and ineradicable as a shadow. He had never begrudged his brother anything - had never desired anything of Loki's - but he resented every moment of Jane's time that went to Loki instead of him. She had so little of it to begin with.

This was a petty and low feeling, he chided himself, and crushed it until it was nothing more than an ember. 

There was still more important news to occupy him, in any case. Asgard, Asgard, what had befallen it? He had guessed, of course, that there was trouble, but a usurper on the throne? He knew of no one who could overcome the All-Father. No one would dare to try - even Loki had fallen into his undeserved kingship by accident. In all Thor's life, there had been one constant above all others: his father, wise beyond imagining, powerful beyond question, the ruler, the judge, the foundation of Asgard. Who could possibly steal Odin's throne from him? 

The compulsion to return home and confront whatever was amiss was so piercing it pained him like a wound. Even though doing so would mean abandoning his obligation to protect Midgard precisely when the humans needed him most. Perhaps it was a blessing that he had no means of traveling home; at least it relieved him of the burden of choosing one duty over another. Though he knew it was scarcely a choice and that he would break any vow to defend Asgard.

Thor worried and frowned and tried to let the sound of water and Jane humming quiet his mind. 

Jane fell asleep immediately after her shower, despite the bright light of day streaming through the windows. She slept the day away until the winter sunlight slanted low in the early evening, casting black shadows beneath the towers and spires of New York. Thor still watched the empty spaces of the room, on edge for any sign of movement, and the skyline, populated now by the humans' flying craft as they removed the population and surrounded the area the jotuns had taken. He had a feeling that it would be a while before he got any sleep - not that he needed it in the mortal way, but he liked it, especially with Jane beside him. 

When Jane woke, the first thing she did was give her laptop a fond hug and open it on the big table by the window where Erik had already deposited books and papers and bits of equipment. 

"OK, wow, that felt amazing," she said. "Heaven is hot water and a bed. Where's Erik?"

"He went to get the things you wanted from Tony," Thor said. "Some time ago."

"I need that teleporter," she said. "But don't go anywhere, you."

"Nothing will make me leave your side," he said. 

She gifted him with her brilliant, giddy smile. "Hold that thought," she said. "I have to get this all down."

And she rummaged among the sheaves of paper until she found clean ones and began to write. The familiar look of concentration came over her face and she was gone, still here beside him, but gone into the reaches of her thoughts where he could never follow. He had seen that look every day on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s flying fortress when she'd been working on a way to send him home. 

She would wander off into her other world and come back with some brilliant treasure of an idea. A contradiction, that: how a mortal mind could conceive of such enduring designs. And so many of them, so quickly. He waited for her, here in the world of real things, as he waited for very few people - but he was content to do so. It reminded him of home. He'd never been the bookish one, but he was accustomed to a thoughtful presence bringing the silence alive. He had missed it in the year after Loki had left. 

Tony and Erik returned shortly after sunset. They looked like they'd been arguing: Erik slightly flushed, Tony cool but sharp-tongued. 

"Here's your poison," Tony said. He handed her the little silver device with its engraved image of tumbling dice. "I don't know who you sold your soul to in exchange for the equation that runs it, but can you hook me up with his number?" 

"Sorry," Jane said. "I have no idea how it happened, it was just one of those magic moments. And I didn't mean to drag you into all this."

"Just remember, you owe me one," Tony said. "Next time I need an interdimensional portal, you'd better have my back."

"Cross my heart," Jane said. "And when I get this thing figured out, I'll send the upgrade to you first."

After Tony left, Jane linked the teleporter to several of the computers, sweeping all the papers except for the little pile she'd been writing on out of the way.

"I need to reprogram this," she said. "Where's the one with the interface?"

"Jane," Erik said, flipping through the pages covered in her writing, "what is all this?"

"It's the first eyewitness account of an alien planet," she said with a breathless grin. "That's just the basics, I'll write a version in actual sentences later. It was all so - I mean, terrifying, but also _incredible_. A planet without a sun, Erik!" She looked to him for approval, as one did to a father. 

Erik tilted the paper so Thor could see. It was covered with Jane's tiny, neat handwriting, accompanied by rough sketches. She drew in spare, sharp, expressive lines: the head of a great fanged serpent, a house with a skull over the door, a figure that was recognizably Loki sliding on something like a ribbon, then Loki again facing off against the giantess, holding a spear, lying on the ground. The accompanying notes were a dense cluster between the pictures: _magical antivenom activated by stellar radiation ingredients poison giant's blood salt smoke starlight_ , _enhanced healing ability has limits_ , _delirium - creepy innuendo_ , _susceptible to frost giant weapons_ , _giant bees?_ , _immortal languages???_ , _didn't answer question about English accent_ , _no beard growth even after weeks_ , _can go without breathing unknown time_ , _not fond of dwarves_...

"A lot of this is about him," Erik said. 

There was more, detailed and lengthy if fragmented. Much of it surprised him - he would not have expected Loki to mention the dwarves, one of the most unfortunate of their adventures and one that still made him alternately furious, exasperated, and guilty. 

"Well, we were together about half the time," Jane said. "I mean, not together. You know what I mean. A lot happened."

"What kind of innuendo?" Thor asked. A plague on Loki and his rude tongue. 

"Um," Jane said. "It was something about..." She hesitated. "Mind control."

Erik shot Thor a somber look. 

She saw it. "Oh, come on, you can't be thinking that? Is this what you were worried about earlier?"

"It isn't like I want to," Erik said. "It's the last thing I want for you. But you should have been more careful about a lot of things, since the very beginning. And all of it has benefited him. It's suspicious, Jane." 

"But I haven't heard any, you know, mental commands or anything like that."

"That's not what it's like."

She scribbled on a blank spot of paper with a pen and refused to look at him. "What is it like?"

Erik answered in a very serious and low voice that somehow made Thor feel like he was eavesdropping: "You're always thinking about him, thinking the thoughts he wants you to think. You don't even realize it yourself."

She opened her mouth, then closed it and shook her head. Thor wanted to leave them in private, but he had to watch over Jane. 

"OK, I get that you can't take my word for it," she said, "but come on, I was at S.H.I.E.L.D. central for weeks, don't you think they would have noticed if their high-security prisoner was mind controlling people?"

"He had me for a year and no one noticed," Erik said.

Jane looked stricken. "Erik... you know how it is, people get into their projects and then you don't hear from them for a while. I just thought you were in serious research mode."

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty. The issue is, I worked for S.H.I.E.L.D., too, and it made no difference."

"Doesn't he need that magic staff to mind control people?"

"I don't know. He did it to me even before, before he was on Earth."

"I appreciate your concern for Jane," Thor said, "but I do not see why she would be resisting Loki as she is if she were under his power." Though the idea had occurred to him as well, the blood oath seemed to explain both their actions well enough. He didn't think his brother had quite so much power. Unless he'd learned new magic wherever he had gone, from whoever he'd been with after he'd fallen from the Bifrost. 

"Thank you!" Jane said. "Exactly."

"I hope you're right," Erik said. "But he plays a long game. It was a year before he made me do anything unusual."

"Even if it were true, what exactly would you want me to do about it?"

"Go somewhere away from here. If he can't find you, he can't kidnap you, and the distance might make it more difficult to try any more of his magic."

She snorted and started typing furiously. "What, like Norway again?"

He didn't know about the magic, but Erik was right about one thing: if Loki didn't know where she was, he certainly couldn't take her. 

"It might be best..." Thor began.

She blinked up at him. "Really? You want to send me away again? I just got back."

He knew, he knew it only too well. "It was not I who sent you away."

"Well, you didn't do anything about it, either."

More words that didn't make sense. "But I did, as I said, Tony and I did nothing else but try to get you back."

She looked suddenly flustered. "I - I meant the other time. With Norway."

"Oh. Yes. But that was to keep you safe." He'd only wanted to keep her as far away from Loki as possible.

"Anyway, I'm not going anywhere," she said, frowning at the computer screen.

"You're being very stubborn," Erik said. 

"And you're being very patronizing," she said, disconnecting the teleporter with a jerk. "Both of you. I've managed him better than anyone else has so far."

"That's what worries me," Erik argued.

"I've programmed in the lobby, the helipad, and the closest NYPD precinct. That should give me a couple of places to jump to, just in case."

Erik muttered something angry under his breath and stalked to the window. The area around the park was lit up bright enough to see. 

The tension made Thor itch. A good battle would be welcome right now. Or a drink. Midgard had an impressive variety of them and months with Tony had taught him that spirits would be the first thing he installed in any living quarters. He went to the cabinet where they were kept and chose a golden one. 

"Do you - " he said, turning. 

Jane was gone. 

Erik whirled, suddenly frantic. " _Helvetes jävla skit_!" he said. "He's got her! Do something!"

Loki had been _here_. For who knew how long, watching them, listening to everything they said, likely having a secret laugh at their expense. 

Erik was advancing toward him. "I swear to God, if you don't do something - "

But there was nothing he could do. Only Jane could.

"What did she say?" Thor said. "The entrance hall and the helicopter pad?"

"And the police station."

Where would she go, down or up or far away? Up, he decided, nearer the stars. 

He pulled open the window and hurled Mjolnir through it and it carried him along on its path. Even as he flew, she appeared in the middle of the helipad, the glowing silver ring clutched in both hands. 

Loki was a step behind her, emerging out of the night. He was in Midgardian formal dress: neat, angular, and dark. She vanished again just before he touched her; then so did he. It took less than a second.

Thor landed. Mjolnir buzzed his frustration. Were they downstairs? By the time he flew down, they would be gone again. Or what if she'd pressed the button for Jotunheim. Or Asgard - 

She reappeared, Loki a half-second behind her. Before Thor could move, he swept her off the ground. 

"Thor!" she screamed, kicking. 

Loki spun with her in his arms and shot Thor a malicious smile over his shoulder. Thor hurled the hammer, but it was too late: they were gone again.

He couldn't repress a cry of rage even as Mjolnir flew back to his palm. Despair rose up to choke him. Too slow, cursed be his wits, too slow and now they were vanished and he had no way of following. He'd had her back for only a few hours. 

And to his astonishment, Jane appeared again, running out of the dark straight toward him. Loki was on her heels, white-faced and cursing. 

"You little - " he said. 

Thor was quicker this time; he darted between them and swung Mjolnir with perhaps more force than was necessary. The metal connected and Loki went flying, skidding across the helipad and off the edge. 

Jane dashed behind him, but Thor was already chasing Loki, his feet carrying him of their own accord. There was no need: Loki had caught himself on the edge. He pulled himself up easily with no pretense of weakness. 

"Loki!" Thor roared. He had no idea what to follow it with. He needed a verbal equivalent of Mjolnir. 

"As I've said at least twice, this doesn't concern you," Loki said. "Jane and I have an agreement."

"No, we don't!" Jane shouted from behind Thor's shoulder. "I never promised to go anywhere with you. You almost killed Erik today!"

"No," he replied mildly. "I only wanted you to come with me. You are putting us both in danger by insisting on staying here." He paused. "But it was rash. I'm sorry."

"Oh, _please_."

"Look!" He swept out a hand in the direction of the park. "Do you see the lights? There are more of them coming through. They're building an army and its sole purpose, its only reason for existence is to recapture _me_. And since I can't leave without you, they will tear through this city until they find me. You've seen what they can do - do you want that to happen to your home?"

"You twist the truth as always, Loki," Thor said. Jane was standing quietly by his side now. Stop listening, he wanted to say. 

"Oh? How so? Which part of what I said was untrue?"

He _knew_ it to be false, in some way or another, but Loki could make anything sound true. "Jane is not to blame for your dispute with the jotuns," he said. "It isn't right that she should suffer for it."

"Then others will. Many others. But you can stop it, Jane - you can save them. If you come with me."

Thor took a hold of her arm. Surely she wouldn't be swayed. 

"Curse your silver tongue," he said. 

But Jane made no move toward Loki. Instead she said, low but urgent, "Whoever he is, you'll stand a better chance against him with other people on your side. Not just you and me alone."

Loki remained composed, one hand toying idly with the end of the green scarf around his neck. "You're quite wrong," he said. He hesitated and then continued slowly, as if every word was being dragged out of him. "But if you fear to come with me alone then - " His eyes met Thor's: the stranger's gaze, hard and unreadable. " - bring him with you. If you must."

The suggestion left him near speechless. It rang in his ears like a key turning in a lock: invisible, barely audible, but somewhere something had _moved_. 

"No," he said with feeling, taking a step forward. "Brother, you come with _us_ , come with us against the jotuns and then to Asgard - "

But Loki was already gone again: the darkness had swallowed him.


	14. Standoff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got so long I decided to split it in two, and then I ended up rewriting this first part four times. Apologies for the lateness!
> 
> Also, some update notes: I'm going on a research trip (for my Master's thesis - due in four weeks, gulp!) for two weeks starting today and won't be bringing my laptop, so I won't be able to update until I get back. Luckily, most of the next chapter is already written and I'll be writing Ch. 16 in my notebook on the trains and planes, so I should be able to post a double update then. If you're not subscribed, check back during the first few days of August! 
> 
> Thank you all again for reading and for your feedback.

The jotuns did not attack the next day, or the one after, or the one after that. Nor did Loki return, though Thor knew he could not be far, wandering somewhere on the coming battlefield. 

An expectant silence settled on New York. The frost giants had brought the hard winter with them: a dark gray cloud gathered over the city, blocking out the sun and spitting salvos of snow. Bursts of light troubled the nights, bearing reinforcements from Jotunheim to swell the ranks forming behind high walls of ice in Central Park. 

The human army built fortifications and barricades in the streets and filled them with firepower. Every wall and window bristled with mute menace at the enemy camp. The weapons were of uncertain use, Thor suspected; though if S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Phase 2 was any indication, there might be something secret and deadly kept in reserve. Midgard had grown teeth since he had first fallen here in his banishment. 

Stark Tower waited for its own reinforcements, but they were slow in coming. When the days became a week, Thor took Mjolnir and Jane and flew out over the city. She had stuck by him night and day and he had no quarrel with the arrangement. It eased the tension of fearing she might vanish again at any moment, a tension that sometimes swelled to a breaking point when he remembered how easily she might slip through his fingers now, not only today, but any day for the remainder of her life. 

Jane hugged his neck tightly as they sped over the cityscape, the woolen sleeves of her sweater tickling his skin. He took them in dizzy loops so he could hear her whoop with laughter. 

"I do _not_ get to do this often enough," she shouted. 

Thor came to a halt high in the air above the park, Mjolnir spinning to keep them in place. Snow fell thick around them. Down below, the jotuns were looking up, pointing and scurrying about among their half-built towers and barracks. Pointing at Thor, the thunderer, and his war hammer. Not running away, however; he was only one man, a challenge, not a certain defeat.

"There are so many of them," Jane said, echoing his thoughts. 

"They are too confident for my liking," he said. "They should see they don't have a free hand over this realm." 

He sent a command to Mjolnir. It vibrated in his hand in response and shot a ray of light up to the frowning blanket of clouds. They churned around the spot where the light hit, swirling and spiraling outward until blue sky showed between the gray. Let the jotuns feel the sunlight.

"You should do that more often, too," Jane said, blinking in the light. "God, I don't think I'll ever get enough sunshine."

"I used to do it too often," he said. "Whenever something put me in a foul mood - storm clouds all over Asgard." Before he'd learned to control the weather and his temper both, the former much more quickly than the latter. 

"Bet that made you a real popular guy."

"Most didn't dare complain, but Mother used to scold me." A pang of homesickness pained him at the thought. His mother had too soft a heart to ever dole out a true scolding. He sent them soaring through the blue sky to shake off the memories. Up here in the air, with only Jane and Mjolnir and all his burdens gravity-bound down on the earth, it was easier to pretend he was on Earth by choice, visiting rather than - trapped.

Stark Tower glittered, its lonely 'A' looming large as they drew closer. Their feet touched the ground on the terrace where he'd fought his brother months before. Snow now softened its contours, bright and clean in the sunshine. It could not soften the sharp edges of the city spread out beneath them, armed to the teeth and ready to ignite.

He could see Tony through the windows, flicking through three-dimensional images hanging before him in the air. He'd been rebuilding this floor into the heart of Stark Tower as he rebuilt the others for each of the Avengers. A control center and meeting place, adorned in his trademark style: sleek and dark, with everything important hidden away out of sight. It was far too severe by Asgardian standards, but it seemed to fit their current situation only too well.

"I could go there, you know," Jane said. Her hand closed unconsciously on the silver ring of the teleporter. She'd hung it on a chain around her neck, tucked out of sight, and he'd noticed that she reached for it often. "To Asgard. It's only the press of a button away. I could go and come back and tell you what's happened to them."

It was a measure of his desperation that he was tempted, even as the decent part of him revolted at the idea of sending her, alone and undefended, into the teeth of whatever powers had toppled the All-Father, if so they had done. It should be he who went. Bad enough that Asgard's problems kept spilling over onto Midgard without bringing humans back home to sort them out for him. 

"No," he said. "No, Jane, don't even think of it."

"It could be a really short trip. Just to see."

"It's far too dangerous." He could not stop her if she wanted to go, he knew. The little silver device gave her a measure of her own power, a touch of sorcery - both cheering, for it made her stronger, and unnerving, for it could take her away.

Something of his consternation must have shown on his face, because she smiled suddenly. The flight had brought a high color to her cheeks and a sparkle to her eyes; she was radiant with the life of the moment. Even the fresh scar crossing her face no longer looked intrusive, merely another part of her.

"Don't worry, I'm not running off. I won't go anywhere without telling you."

The words reassured him only slightly; she need not go on purpose to disappear. And the question of Asgard brought back all the weight of his worries in force. Danger on all fronts. He agonized once again about whether she was safer by his side or far away from these troubles, where neither Loki nor anything else could find her. 

"Perhaps you would be wiser to run off," he sighed. 

As soon as he said it, he wished he might call the words back and replace them with ones that didn't sound like he wanted to be rid of her. To his relief, she didn't react with displeasure. 

"Take off your worrying cap, you pessimist. I'm fine." She turned the teleporter over and over in her hands. Red for Asgard; he only hoped the color was not prophetic. "I said I would find a way to get you home, I said I would do that for you. And I almost have." She shook her head. "Sometimes it feels like I've been trying to get to Asgard forever. The magic realm and its magic people. How can a world be flat anyway? And with only one city on it."

"Magic," he said, less than cleverly. She smiled anyway. 

"I know." She rubbed a finger against the engraved dice on the metal. "All I have to do is build one of these for you. Then we could go."

"After the jotuns have been dealt with." He could not forget his other obligations, other promises. 

"Yeah, we'll do that first. No problem, easy-peasy. I hear they're not even dangerous to Thor," she teased.

"What braggart told you that?" he wondered innocently.

"Hmm, he was - about six foot three, blonde, blue eyes, looks snazzy in a cape. You've probably seen him around."

"If I do, I'll have to chase him off. It sounds like he's caught your eye."

She giggled and then sobered. "Seriously, though, I've been thinking. I need to ask Loki some more questions about his magic."

The mention of his brother cast a shadow of unease over the conversation. "He must be near, even if he won't show himself," Thor said. "Though whether he'll answer your questions, I cannot say."

"It's worth a try. But before we try to talk to him, there's something I wanted to tell you." She took a nervous breath. "And I probably should have told you earlier, but Tony and everyone was there and it's... awkward."

More troubles. He wished he could smooth away the cares written on her brow. "What is it?"

"It's about something Loki did."

He had a feeling this revelation would be an unpleasant one. Nothing concerning Loki was ever good news anymore. He only hoped his brother had not done something unpardonable - the list of his offenses grew so long already that Thor could hardly bear to think of it. Such a list was not easy to make amends for.

"I suppose our respite cannot last forever," he sighed. "Loki seems determined to destroy everything around him. Please, Jane, forgive me for making you a target." It was an unhappy paradox; the more he loved her, the more it would dispose Loki to fixate on her. Yet he could not imagine stopping, no matter the misfortunes it brought into her life. Perhaps that was selfish - he'd come to realize that he had often been selfish in his life - but he could not help it.

His words appeared to trouble her. "We don't have to let him destroy everything," she said, half to herself.

He tried to reassure her. "We're of one mind about that."

"He's already made Erik not trust me," she muttered. "Who knows what Pepper and Tony are thinking. He's going to follow me around raining on my parade for the rest of my life."

"Then it's fortunate you know someone who can banish rain clouds."

That brightened her gloomy expression. "You know just how to cheer a girl up."

He brushed back the hair from her forehead. "I promise you, no matter how this situation came about, I will not leave you to suffer Loki's mistreatment." Even if he had to shield her for the rest of her life. As far as he knew, no sorcery could break an oath sealed by blood - but he was no sorcerer, and the All-Father might know a way. Even if it was truly unbreakable, an Asgardian prison would hold Loki, and Jane would be free no matter how little his brother liked it. 

If Asgard could be liberated. If he could return and drive out whatever usurper held it. But he must, when all was said and done: the city of the gods could not be extinguished. He could not even imagine Asgard's power ending; it was a comical fancy.

He came back to the matter at hand. "Trust me to chase away these shadows. What churlish thing has my brother done to dismay you?"

She hesitated a moment longer. "Not to me - to you. When we were in Jotunheim, he tried to tell me things about you. To make me doubt you and myself and us. But that's what I wanted to tell you, now before he gets back: I didn't believe his lies, and even if some things were true, they were a long time ago, and even if they weren't, that's between you and me. Not him. Got it?"

He was caught between his desire to be angry and her matter-of-fact attitude. He could not say that this news surprised him, but that didn't make it easier to bear the thought of Loki trying to poison Jane against him. Because he knew for certain, beyond the shadow of any doubt, that anything Loki said or did to Jane was directed ultimately at him - that if Loki couldn't kill her, he would try to make her hate him instead. Even in the midst of Jotunheim, running from death, he had found time for that. 

"I'm glad you didn't listen," he said finally. 

"I remembered what you said. About his silver tongue. You were right. And I'm sure he'll try again - he'll try to divide us, he has to. He's a total basket case when it comes to you."

"A... basket case?" Thor said, picturing a crate filled with baskets. A fragile, orderly image, not qualities he associated with Loki. 

"I mean, he's insane. No matter what happens, no matter what you think is going on, you have to watch your back every single second so he doesn't stick a knife in it. Metaphorically if not literally."

Or in your side, he thought with a twinge of remembered pain. 

"You can't trust anything he says," she went on. "We should remember that, because I'm sure he's going to have a whole lot to say."

"Beloved," Thor said. "I would be a fool to believe anything Loki said about you. Have no fears in that respect." He would not be goaded into leaving her. 

"I don't. So, instead of letting him split us up, we should stick together. I've got a bargain for you: no more talk about sending me away anywhere, and I won't run off without you. It's you and me against the world, all the way to Asgard, no matter how many frost giant armies are in the way. I'll get you there, you watch my back against Loki while I'm working on it, it's a match made in heaven. Deal?"

She had always been so ready to jump into danger with him, even when they'd barely met and she had thought him a madman. A risk-taker, his Jane. It still felt strange to have someone so determined to protect _him_ , in her own way. Especially a human. But she was right: he needed her now more than ever, and she needed him. He could not let his desire to protect her become a wedge between them.

Having a logical reason made him feel better about the fact that, in truth, he wanted her to stay close anyway, no matter what it cost them.

"You're a poor bargainer, Jane," he said. "I always get the better end of the deal."

She grinned. "I love you. You know that, right?"

He sealed their bargain with a kiss. An alarm rang.

"Oh, damn," Jane said, breaking away. "Is that a cuteness alarm? Were we being too cute? It's your fault."

They ran inside. Tony's hands were dancing through layers of floating images, flicking through them at a rapid pace. He looked for all the world like a sorcerer casting spells; sometimes Thor thought magic and science were growing closer here on Midgard, ever since he and Loki had brought magical objects down to this realm.

The alarm shrieked furiously. 

"Hey, kids," Tony said, shutting it off with a twist of his fingers. "You know glass is transparent, right?"

"Mind your own business," Jane said sweetly. "What's going on?"

"Oh, this? It's my new wet blanket alarm, you like it?"

A three-dimensional image of Captain Steve Rogers appeared floating above the black console, the snow-covered street visible behind him. He was peering nervously over the edge of his shield. 

"I, uh, I tried to ring the doorbell," his voice came through the machinery. 

"We heard you," Tony said. "Take any of the elevators. Jarvis, bring him up." He turned to Jane and Thor. "Reunion drinks?"

"It's eleven in the morning," Jane said. "New York could explode into war at any minute."

"Two good reasons," Tony agreed. "Plus a total killjoy is on his way up here. He's probably going to talk about the right thing to do a lot."

"How about coffee instead?"

"Coffee," Thor chimed in. "Coffee is a superior drink." He'd learned how to make it.

When Steve Rogers arrived, travel-stained in his brown leather jacket but his shield gleaming as brightly as ever, the first thing he said was, "We have to do something about the army in Central Park."

"Yeah, it's a problem," Tony said. "Coffee? Thor made it. Best coffee you've ever had."

With a friend finally arrived and a mug of coffee, Thor could put aside his worries for a while.

***

When they climbed back to their floor in the evening, Loki was waiting for them. He sat at the table, paging through Jane's notes in the reflected glow of the searchlights flitting across the sky outside. The steel-gray towers of the city framed him like guards. He raised his head when they came in and the sight of him dispelled all the warmth the sunshine and Captain Steve's presence had brought. The respite was indeed over; trouble had come to call on them at last.

Jane stopped in her tracks. Thor bumped into her back, reaching reflexively for her elbow. 

His brother looked like more of a stranger than ever in his impeccably accurate local dress, the haughty distance of his manner, the cynical twist to his lips. As if the military forces arrayed below them were all a game he observed from above, flicking pieces over at will. The scar on his face, a perfect match for Jane's, summoned up a storm of resentment and hurt and - Thor could not help it - a flash of jealousy. 

"Jane isn't going with you," Thor said, glaring over her head at Loki. He bristled in expectation, awaiting some sign of what Jane had warned him of, some insinuating attempt to turn them against each other. There were certainly enough deeds in his own past that Loki could twist into sordid-sounding tales.

"An unwise choice, remaining at the focus of a frost giant attack," Loki said. His voice held nothing, no hint of emotion at all, or none that Thor could perceive. He paid no particular attention to Jane. Jane and Thor might as well have been no one to him. "I don't suppose you'll reconsider. Fewer people would die. I believe that sort of thing matters to you."

No, it was another - invitation? It threw him off balance again, though he managed not to burst out with something Loki would see as _sentiment_. 

"Now that the jotuns are here, they're unlikely to depart without joining battle," Thor said. Midgard had once been their raiding ground, before the All-Father had captured the source of their magic in the last war. "I will not run while my friends stay to fight the army you have led here."

The second one he had brought rampaging through Midgard. Even now, it was difficult to believe that all the strife around them seethed, somehow, from his reedy little brother. 

"Then we can all die together."

"You are over-quick to dismiss those who defeated _you_ easily," Thor said.

Still Loki did not react, except perhaps in the barest flutter of the paper he held in his hands. Unless Thor had imagined it.

"Your friends are not mine. They won't fight to defend me; they're as much my enemies as the jotuns."

Perhaps they would not like it, but they would do it, Thor knew. Tony might suggest turning over Loki, but he would never sit idly by while Thor fought the frost giants alone. Loki simply could not understand loyalty or friendship or the choices of good people. Only self-interest. Yet in the past he had known those virtues as everyone did. It had not been pretense, not for all those years. The knowledge must still endure, somewhere in his heart. What had buried it Thor could not fathom.

"Then why are you here now?" Jane said.

"Because you're in danger," Loki replied. He said it simply: a statement of fact. 

Jane's hand gripped Thor's at the small of her back - not fearful, but reassuring. "Really. Why?"

"The frost giants will attack soon."

"How can you know that?"

"They've been using a lot of magic. They're preparing."

"So you've come to... help us?"

Loki stirred and said, acidly, "It's difficult to maintain a distance when the threat is so imminent."

Jane moved forward, pulling Thor with her. She sat down and folded her arms, not the least bit confounded by Loki's manner. "How does it feel? When I'm in danger. What does it feel like?"

"Nothing," Loki said with less force. "Is the interrogation over?"

There was a lie even Thor could detect. It needled at him. Perhaps it was meant to. He did not like Loki having any kind of secret feeling for Jane, even one caused by magic.

He placed Mjolnir prominently on the table and took the seat next to Jane. "Are you simply going to sit here all night?"

Loki appeared to consider the question. "Do you have a more comfortable chair?"

"It's Stark Tower," Jane said, "we've got everything."

And that, finally, seemed to amuse him. A cold and deadly shadow of his old humor glittered in his eyes when he turned them on Thor.

"How small your world has become," he said.

Which could mean only one thing. Thor was of no mind to trifle with words about a matter of such importance. 

"Loki," he said, "what has happened in Asgard? Who has taken the throne? _Tell me._ Even if you refuse to do anything, tell me so that I may."

"I don't know."

The refusal was so blunt it near took his breath away. A senseless, petty refusal; his eyes stung with frustration. If he could only wrest the answer out of Loki - 

"You lie," he said. "Why, what does it gain you to lie about this?" What had he done, to invite this magnitude of spite? What had any of them done, back home, to earn such hatred? How could Loki still twist the knife so easily, even after being defeated?

His turmoil only made Loki more impassive. "Be glad that you will never understand."

"You are truly beyond reason! Hate me if you must, but do not take your revenge on the whole of Asgard." 

Loki said nothing, encased in stubborn silence. 

"Or is it Father whom you despise so? He would not approve of your attack on Jotunheim, so now you rejoice that someone has taken his throne?" He could not stop talking, even as he knew the words were only oil on the flames. "Or because he sent me to stop you from razing Midgard? You hurt yourself as much as anyone with this, brother, for you know he would have come to free you from the snake's coils if he could, as would I - "

At the mention of the snake, Loki's stare had turned to poison itself. "Save the heroics for the humans," he snapped. But it was Jane he glared at.

"Don't give me that look," she said. "Of course I told him everything, what were you expecting?"

Loki recovered his equilibrium in an instant. He smiled unpleasantly. "Not everything."

Strangely, she flushed, though the answer did not sound untoward to Thor's ears. "Well - well you should have expected it."

Which made Loki laugh. "Very quick. Thor has been left behind again."

He might not understand, but he could see well enough that Loki was trying to provoke a reaction from one or both of them, just as Jane had warned him. He stood up. "Have a care, Loki," he said. "Keep a civil tongue."

Loki stared up at him. His impassive mask returned, but he said nothing in reply. After an uneasy moment, Thor sat down once more.

"OK, I don't think anyone's sleeping tonight," Jane said after the silence had stretched out into discomfort. "So, I've got a question for you about interdimensional travel."

At least that was impersonal enough to be a safe area of discussion. Even if Thor couldn't contribute, it was still better than anything that touched on the past.

"Is this nostalgia?" Loki said idly. "I thought we'd exhausted that topic."

"Not quite." Jane fished the teleporter out from under her shirt. "This only works for me," she said. "I want to know why. It should be able to transport anyone."

She was trying to solve the problem of traveling to Asgard, Thor realized. In a roundabout way, since Loki would not give her any information if he knew what it was for. Thor tried to remain inscrutable so Loki would not detect the tactic.

Loki shrugged. "Why should it?"

She rummaged among the papers scattered around the table until she found one covered with arcane Midgardian symbols. "That, right there," she said, pointing to a row of them. "That's the equation that separates an individual probability field - or fate or whatever you want to call it - from the rest of the universe. It should work for any probability field, but for some reason it only works for mine. Why would that be the case?"

Loki seemed to be barely listening. "It's only logical. You're the one who mastered it, of course it only works for you. Skill in magic can't be handed off to someone else."

"This isn't magic, it's science."

"It's tiresome to have to repeat oneself. You should know by now that they are essentially the same."

"No, they're not, not in this respect. Magic might be - personal, or whatever, but science, science is universal. There's no possible reason why this equation should only apply to me."

"If you wrote it, who else should it apply to? When you sleep, do others grow rested?"

Jane was staring at the paper as if she wished to burn a hole through it with her eyes. "You're implying that each individual has to come up with their own equation. But that's _idiotic_. It shouldn't make any difference who discovers it."

"It does create an unfortunate obstacle, doesn't it?" Loki said. "Now Thor will either have to visit the Sons of Muspelheim or - learn mathematics." 

He grinned at Jane's surprised look. His obvious self-satisfaction set Thor's teeth on edge.

"Who else has such an urgent desire to leave this plane? I'm surprised at you, Thor," he added. "Shouldn't you remain here to protect the humans as you've promised so many times? And after you berated me for wishing to escape Midgard!"

"I will not leave them at the mercy of the jotuns," Thor said. "But when they are defeated, I will return to Asgard. Even if I have to learn mathematics." He would do it, no matter how daunting the task.

"You may as well attempt to build a new Bifrost. It will be quicker."

"Maybe I will," Jane said. "Or I'll fix the teleporter. Who says any of that's true, anyway - you want to stop us from going anywhere."

Instead of answering, Loki took the paper from her and tapped it with a finger. The symbols rearranged themselves in a new pattern. 

Jane snatched the paper back from him. Her eyes bugged out in disbelief. "No way," she said. "No _way_! The structure's similar, but it's different enough - you can't just do that!"

"Why not?"

"It's - cheating! I spent _months_ working on mine." 

"So did I."

"You just did it in less than a second!" She slammed the paper back down on the table, angry enough that her voice quivered with it. 

"Wrong. I spent months mastering the magic. Magic and science can speak to each other - it's only a matter of translation. So you can believe me when I tell you there is _no_ way you can make your little device transport Thor, unless he learns to do what I just did." He relished the words, taking overt pleasure in parrying Jane's stabs at questioning. 

Jane gave Thor a slightly desperate look. She believed what Loki was saying. Thor was no scholar of magic or science, but it hardly mattered: a lie was the same as a refusal for practical purposes. Trapped in Midgard against his will, Loki was taking his revenge by confounding any attempt to make him assist them.

At least he did not have it all his own way. He would have to fight with them, no matter how little he liked it. And maybe - maybe afterward, after they had fought on the same side once more, he would remember that he was Odin's son again, that it was not the blood in his veins but the blood they had spilled together that mattered. Maybe the two of them would storm back home together to cast out the usurper yet. 

Thor settled in to wait. Loki might be willful and half-mad, but he was the more stubborn, and nothing would persuade him his brother was lost forever.


	15. Assemble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took an age and also is only one chapter! I simply don't have time right now (and everything seems to be requiring multiple drafts). My thesis is due in less than two weeks, so I'm putting this story aside until then so I don't fail out of grad school because of fanfic. ;) After that I'll be able to update regularly again. Thanks for your patience and for reading.

The night passed with excruciating slowness. None of them slept. Jane studied her papers with a tired frown while Thor watched Loki inspect the contents of their floor with desultory interest. He spent a good hour loitering in the kitchen, drinking all of their milk. Directly from its little box. Jane had once scolded Thor for doing exactly that, but when he looked, she was half-drowsing, chin on her hand. It didn't seem worth breaking the peace for.

The sun had begun to rise when Jane said sharply, jerking out of her doze, "Where's Erik?" 

She glared at Loki.

He was leaning against the kitchen counter, playing idly with a spoon, bending and unbending the weak metal into knots. "I don't keep note of Selvig's whereabouts."

"He usually sleeps here," she said. "Kind of weird that he doesn't come in the very night you reappear."

"You have a suspicious mind. It was none of my doing."

She snorted and gave Thor an exasperated look. There was a smudge of ink on her cheek where she'd been leaning her hand. He swiped at it with his thumb and said, "Perhaps he spent the night working."

"I'm going to look for him," she said. 

As soon as she stood up, Loki straightened. He followed the two of them down to the control center like a bird of ill omen, armor melting out of nothing to cover his human garments. Thor feared this day would be even longer than the night.

When they arrived, they found a frazzled-looking Erik seated on one of the black sofas, a mug in his hands. Natasha Romanoff was next to him, her shining red hair and elegant dark skirt a sharp contrast to Erik's unkemptness. Clint Barton stood behind the seat back, several weapons strapped prominently to his belt. Thor's heart rose a bit at the sight of them. He had missed Natasha. She reminded him rather of Hogun: laconic but sage.

Three hostile stares greeted them. 

Or rather, Loki behind them, striding into the room with more arrogance than he'd ever shown in any Asgardian hall, where he'd been a prince and not a fugitive. 

"So he's back," Erik said, and took a slow swallow from his mug. 

"Are you all right? You didn't come up last night," Jane said. 

Loki sailed past them all and established himself by the windows, turning to survey them with a small smile as if they were his toy soldiers. He folded his hands behind his back. The rising sun turned his silhouette black as charcoal. 

"Couldn't sleep," Erik said, eyeing him with intense dislike. "Bad dreams."

Barton folded his arms, equally unfriendly. "Every time I try to hang out with you guys, you've got this waste of space around somewhere."

"Hello, Barton," Loki said fondly, slipping into venomous courtesy. "Reminiscing with Selvig? And how's that mind of yours doing? I hope I didn't stretch it out too much. It was such a tight fit."

"Loki..." Thor growled, fighting the urge to apologize for every word his brother said. It had been shaming enough last time when they'd finally had to muzzle him. 

Barton was too professional to react with emotion. "I hear you have a problem with falling from high places," he said. "We're pretty high up."

"Yes, Mr. Stark provides marvelous quarters for his guests," Loki said. "Or haven't you seen them?"

"Don't start, Loki," Natasha said coolly. "We already know why you're here. I'd say we know more about it than you do."

"Then I suppose you won't be subjecting me to one of your charming interrogations? I _have_ been wondering - did you enter them into your ledger? The red or the black?"

"Neither," Natasha said. 

"Of course. So many people killed, so many tortured - it must be difficult to keep count."

Barton snorted. Jane groaned and slid onto the second sofa, across from Erik. One of Tony's unassuming black machines stood between the two. "Is there any more coffee?" she said. "Some caffeine would be nice before we skip right to the torturing and killing talk."

Erik handed his mug across to her. "Have the rest of mine."

"Thanks," she said, with a slightly tremulous smile. "Don't scare me like that, okay?" Still worried about Erik's disapproval. Thor leaned against the arm of the sofa next to her, trying to send reassuring thoughts. 

"Good to see you again, Natasha," Jane said. "Um, sorry if I was still being kind of a jerk the last time we talked. I got a bit confused."

"Don't worry about it. I know who to blame," Natasha said, eyes flicking to Loki.

"You ought to thank me. I provide such a convenient scapegoat for your dysfunctions," he said.

"Sure. Thanks for nothing," Barton said. 

It seemed Loki planned to make it as difficult as possible to tolerate his presence. He wasn't even pretending he wanted them to trust him. Thor was mildly surprised that Barton hadn't shot him already. Probably only because he knew his guns would be ineffective. "What do you mean, you know more about why Loki is here than we do?" he asked Natasha. More news about Jotunheim, about Asgard? It was difficult to see how the humans would have information about either.

Before Natasha could answer, the elevator doors opened to admit Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, apparently in mid-argument. Whatever it was, it ended the moment they saw Loki.

"Whoa," Steve said, stopping in his tracks. 

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Tony said. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Uh, Jarvis, security breach? Why wasn't I informed there's a psychopathic space Viking in my lounge?"

"Sir?" Jarvis' polite voice replied. "I've detected no intruders."

"Performance issues?" Loki inquired delicately. "I'm sure it usually works."

Tony gave him a flat stare. "All right, Jarvis, you get a pass for the supervillain. Now explain how the other two got in."

Natasha raised her eyebrows. "You're not the only one with skills, Mr. Stark."

"Well, that's fantastic. I'm going to sleep great knowing that a perpetrator of genocide and two literal assassins can walk in here any time they like," Tony said. "Speaking of which, what took you so long? It can't take a week to get here from anywhere. Unless you were spying in Antarctica. Penguins causing trouble lately?"

"We would've come earlier, but there's a political situation," Natasha said. Political - Midgardian politics? Despite living here for months, Thor still knew very little about them. It was a confusing, overly complicated mess of conflicting powers and regions, all with their own interests. Sometimes he caught himself thinking that it would be better, simpler if they had someone like the All-Father ruling them - but that was perilously close to what Loki had intended, and he'd seen how poorly his brother's plans had fared.

"Sure does look that way from here," Steve muttered. He pulled up a chair halfway between the two sofas and leaned his elbows on his knees. 

Tony didn't sit, but prowled around the room with, Thor suspected, affected carelessness, keeping a watchful eye on Loki. Occasionally, he touched the bracelets around his wrists that called his flying suit of armor. As breezy as he might appear on the outside, he was always more prepared than he let on.

"We've got information for you," Natasha went on. "Classified information."

"Read you loud and clear," Tony said. "Hey, Nosferatu? This is a secret team meeting. Go kick a puppy somewhere. An evil puppy, so Rogers here doesn't have to come rescue it."

"I thought I was part of the team?" The gathering of nearly the entire Avengers Initiative had not disconcerted Loki in the slightest. He sounded as flippant as if they were a band of children he was jesting with.

"I don't remember sending out that invitation."

"Then you should reconsider, if you want to survive this war. There are some very interesting weapons inside the jotun camp."

"You've been _inside_?" Jane sputtered. 

"What do you think I've been doing this past week?"

"Not running straight into your pursuers' arms, I would have hoped," Thor said. The idiot, if they'd captured him he would be right back in Jotunheim by now. No, more likely dead. It was bad enough that he antagonized every potential ally without tempting fate when it came to his enemies as well.

"So," Natasha said. She slid to her feet and inserted a small device into the console between the sofas. Images appeared above it in quick succession, floating in the air: pictures and diagrams. She flicked through them with her fingers until she reached one of the giants' camp from above, offering a clear view of the buildings inside. "Do you know what this is?" she asked, pointing to a structure shaped like a bowl, open to the sky. Unlike the camp's walls, it appeared to be made of metal.

"Yes," Loki said, and didn't elaborate. 

"Looks kind of like a satellite dish," Jane said. 

"It isn't one," Natasha said. "We think it's related to how they're getting here."

"Very good," Loki said, voice heavy with condescension. "Though rather obvious, considering that's where the reinforcements always appear."

"Do you have anything useful to contribute here?" Barton said. "If not, we've got things to do."

"He is useful," Erik said, his normally mild air briefly twisted into something ugly. "'Always so useful,' eh? He's what they're here for. They'll go away once they have him. So give him to them."

"No!" Thor and Jane said together. Not that suggestion again; but he couldn't blame Erik for his anger, either. 

"I am sorry, Erik, truly," Thor said. "But you are talking about surrendering my brother to torture and death. I cannot allow the jotuns to have him." He wished he could make Erik understand, or at least make it less painful for him. 

Loki, of course, was determined to do the opposite.

"I'm terribly sorry, Selvig," Loki said. "I think they just like me better than you."

"Hold your _tongue_ , Loki!" Thor said as Jane snapped, "Shut _up_." She looked ready to push Loki out the windows herself, and at the moment Thor didn't feel much like stopping her.

Loki smiled at the both of them beatifically. 

"Normally, I would agree with Dr. Selvig's sentiment," Barton said, not bothering to hide his reluctance. "But things are more... complicated."

"Which is why we're late," Natasha said. She folded her arms and scanned the faces in the room. Gauging the reactions in advance. "Another party has gotten involved: the World Security Council. I've got a source in their hierarchy. Apparently, they've been negotiating with the frost giants for the past week."

"About what?" Steve said. He'd been listening carefully to everything that passed. 

"A source?" Tony asked. "Who exactly are you working for now that S.H.I.E.L.D.'s out of business?"

It was Steve's question she answered. "Well, essentially, the Council feels two lives are a small price to pay to prevent another alien invasion. They're going to order the military to stand aside and let the frost giants take what they came for, provided they leave again afterward."

"So you're on your own," Barton said. "We're on our own. All those tanks outside, pretty much just there to look shiny in the snow."

" _What_?" Jane said. "They're just - letting aliens invade Earth?"

"More like letting them invade Stark Tower," Natasha said. 

"No wonder no one wants to rent the offices..." Tony muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

But it wouldn't stop with Stark Tower. Earth's rulers had given in when they should have made a show of strength. If these were Midgardian politics, Thor was not looking forward to learning more about them; and judging by his friends' grim expressions, they were equally angry. No army, just the Avengers, Jane, Erik, and Pepper. And, hopefully, Loki. Even assuming they managed to work together, the numbers were skewed to the point where it might not matter. 

The situation was not, however, without hope.

"We need Banner," Steve said, obviously thinking along the same lines. "Why isn't he here?"

"He's coming," Tony said. "Uh, I'm not really seeing the problem here? I'd say this is even more of a reason to go with Selvig's idea. Sorry, Thor, it's not that I love the idea, but going up against the Blue Meanies - who might be perfectly nice people anyway, who knows - for your psycho brother sounds like a bad move all around."

"Wait - _two_ lives?" Jane said, seizing on a different detail.

Natasha _had_ said two. Thor realized with a chill that the frost giants must have decided Jane had wronged them, too, simply by unbinding Loki. At least that would put an end to Erik's desire to give in to the jotuns' demands, but it put Jane in even greater danger. And it was her own rulers - her own people - who had made the decision, just as they'd nearly destroyed this city to put an end to the Chitauri invasion. His hadn't thought his regard for this World Security Council could get any lower. 

"No matter what you may think about Loki, none of you can seriously consider turning Jane over," he growled. If anyone did, he was still the strongest of this company, friends or no. 

But Loki burst out laughing at him. "Thor, you simpleton!" he crowed. "Your hammer is sharper than you are." He grinned with ferocious pleasure. "Whatever else you may say about jotuns, they do have a _wonderful_ sense of humor."

"They're not interested in Dr. Foster," Natasha said, ignoring Loki. "They want you, Thor. According to them, you broke a long-standing peace between Jotunheim and Asgard and started the war Loki tried to finish. They say they hold both of Odin's sons accountable." 

His jaw dropped. All eyes turned to him. Everyone burst into speech at once.

"What?" Jane said, looking slightly taken aback. "So that was true?" Then her lips thinned and she said, "OK, no offense, guys, but if anyone suggests turning Thor over to the frost giants, I'll Mjolnir them myself."

"Is this a family trait or does everyone from Asgard go around starting wars on other planets?" Tony said. "I used to be cynical about humanity, but after seeing who else is out there - "

"There must be more to it than that - " Steve said. 

Erik, who remembered Thor's first day on Earth, looked forbearing rather than surprised. "Gods. I guess the stories were right about some things."

The injustice of it stung him. He had _saved_ Jotunheim. He'd destroyed the Bifrost, cut himself off from Midgard and Jane, for _the jotuns_. They knew it perfectly well; there had been communication, if not travel, between Asgard and Jotunheim after Loki had fled from home. Evidently it mattered nothing to them that Thor had saved their entire race: he was Odin's son and that was too great a prize to pass up. 

And they were only daring this because they knew Asgard was unable to retaliate. An opportunity to slay both of its princes, with only a few mortals to stand in the way? It would never come again. Those were jotun politics: strike at every weakness, no matter if it was right or wrong. They would never be so bold if Father were still... he didn't finish the thought. And they knew who had seized the throne. Between them and Loki, it felt like everyone did except Thor.

"Your leaders agreed on this with the frost giants?" Thor fumed. "Is it an Earth custom to surrender allies to enemies in order to avoid a fight?"

" _No_ ," Steve said. "It isn't. We're not."

"The Council is," Natasha said, but her eyes were sympathetic. 

Loki's smile was not. "The world you love," he said to Thor. "And what a world it is."

At which point Jane and Erik and Barton and Steve all began arguing at him. He ignored them - except for Jane, whom he snapped back at with slightly less composure than before. Perhaps he was unused to her having allies; or perhaps he simply disregarded other mortals as a matter of course. But not Jane, anymore. Thor shifted to get a better grip on Mjolnir almost before he realized what he was doing.

Tony's phone rang, cutting into the babble. He answered and said, "I've called you about a million times." He listened for a moment. "What are you doing down there? Mi casa es tu casa. Hold on, I'll come get you, you don't want to miss this." 

"Is that Banner?" Natasha said.

Tony waved at her vaguely as he headed toward the elevator. "If Loki tries anything, toss him out the window, Barton."

An awkward silence fell as he departed, everyone digesting the news while keeping a wary eye on Loki. Thor's initial swell of anger gave way to an uncomfortable sense of guilt. The raid he'd led against Jotunheim had been rash and unjustified, but in hindsight so childish it seemed to belong to a separate period of his life all together. When he'd been a different man. He had never expected it to come snapping at his heels now. After all his frustration about Asgard's conflicts overflowing onto Earth, it was discomfiting to be partly to blame himself.

"I don't suppose the frost giants would leave in peace if I told them I am sorry?" he said to no one in particular. "Things were different then. I was different."

He had not especially wanted them to know just how different. From their point of view, his life had been long, and for most of it he'd been spoiled and belligerent and thoughtless - not the impression he wanted to give as the only representative of his people in this realm. Aside from Loki. The blacker Loki's deeds, the more important it was to be a counterexample. Unfortunately, he had not always been the best one.

At least this was the worst of it, the ill-considered attack that had gotten him banished. Now they knew.

"It's not your fault," Jane said, her brown eyes serious, but warm. "They were here for Loki, anyway. They're just being opportunistic." 

Steve was just as firm. "Whatever this is about, we're not just going to sit back while some guys from another planet waltz in here after you, Thor."

If Jane and Steve were quick to reassure, Natasha was unsentimental, though not unkind.

"Hard, isn't it?" she said with a rueful quirk of her lips. "You can change all you like. People never forget who you were." She had her own list of things she would likely rather forget. She had never told Thor anything that was on it, but he had wondered, sometimes, how their battle stories would compare. 

"Sometimes they get over it, though," Barton said, more to Natasha than to Thor. His gaze shifted to Loki. "And sometimes not."

"Well, god of thunder, frost giants, I don't know why anyone would expect anything different," Erik murmured, friendlier now. "Sometimes I think I'm the only person who reads around here."

Thor looked around the little circle and saw that they were all united, jumping without hesitation to his defense. Even though they were but a tiny band of mortals facing a terrible enemy - his enemy, not theirs. He thought for the hundredth time how mistaken the Asgardian view of mortals was. You could find great spirits just as easily here as back home.

Loki had stopped talking, dropping the derision and retreating into a cold silence. What had provoked his new mood Thor could not tell, but he liked it no better than the taunts before. It placed Loki so clearly outside their circle: a wolf prowling in the shadows beyond the hearth fire. And surely it heralded some change in his mind, some secret rearrangement of his thoughts, though Thor had not the faintest idea what it might be. 

When Tony returned, he had Bruce Banner in tow. Banner drifted in as quiet and unassuming as a mouse, but the atmosphere still grew tenser. The geography of the room seemed to shift as everyone adjusted to the new power in it: one that outweighed the rest of them combined. Banner came to a halt at the edge of the seated circle, hands in his pockets, a counterbalance to Loki's position by the windows. 

Loki tautened like a bowstring. Clearly, he had not forgotten who had put an end to his would-be despotism in a matter of seconds. 

"Hi," Banner said. "Sorry I'm late. It's a bit... complicated with the army here. You know they're watching this place?"

"Good to have you, doc," Steve said. 

"Ah, Dr. Banner," Loki said. "How is your monster?"

Banner didn't flinch. "How's yours?"

"You are going to _love_ the spectrometer I put on your floor," Tony said, the only one not affected by the unease. "I hope everyone brought pyjamas and a toothbrush for the counter-invasion sleepover. Since both the blondes look reasonably calm, I'm guessing we decided against handing anyone over. Are you sure we can't just go halvsies and give them Loki by himself?"

"They will attack anyway," Thor said. "For me." They wouldn't forgo Odin's heir, even if they already had Loki. 

"And then we'll be down a guy," Steve said. "That is," and he directed his words at Loki, "if you intend to lend us a hand here. Considering it's your ass we'll be saving."

"Is this my invitation?" Loki quipped. He strode into their midst - prompting a ripple of movement as everyone except Banner and Jane tensed again - and pointed at the images still floating in the air above the console, picking out the bowl-shaped structure in the middle of the jotun camp. "You're correct, Agent Romanoff. It's related to how they're getting here. It focuses their bridge."

"Bridge? You mean like - the Bifrost?" Jane said. 

"The light does look like the Bifrost light," Erik broke in. Thor had thought so as well, even back when the giants had arrived on the floating fortress. But traveling through the Bifrost was like speeding through a tunnel, and this light seemed to burst out of the world around you instead. 

"They have this big dome filled with it," Jane said. "I saw it when I was there. A white dome with four silver towers around it."

"Not a Bifrost," Loki said. "They lack the power to construct anything on that scale without the Casket of Ancient Winters. It's trapped Bifrost light. From Asgard's Bifrost."

"Trapped...?" Jane's brow furrowed and Thor knew she was trying to translate the concept into science. "Some kind of contained Einstein-Rosen distortions...? But I have no idea how you could travel that way. Seems like it would tear everything around it apart."

"It sounds very unstable," Erik said. "Hard to transport anything with."

"Hence the mirror to focus it," Loki said. "The real difficulty, however, is containing it in Gastropnir. The arrangement must be extremely fragile."

"How exactly did the frost giants get Bifrost light from Asgard?" Jane asked. 

"I think I can guess," Thor said. The last time the bridge had been directed at Jotunheim - 

"Yes," Loki said. "It's left over. An interesting side effect, from a technical point of view." There was no shadow of regret in his voice, not for what he'd done or the fact that it had given the jotuns the means to hunt him down now. He had shown, in fact, far less concern about his pursuers than one would expect from someone who'd been tortured by them so monstrously. 

"From when you bored the Bifrost into Jotunheim," Thor said.

"Wait," Tony said. "So what I'm getting is, you provided both the motivation _and_ the equipment for this little invasion. I'd like to use a less cliche phrase than 'just desserts,' but really, that's some poetic justice cheesecake right there."

"Justice?" Loki said carelessly. "Do you think so, Tony Stark? But isn't it interesting that they waited this long to use it? I would guess justice has very little to do with it."

Before Tony could retort anything, Steve said, "Wait, Thor - you broke your people's bridge, right?"

"Yes. To stop Loki from using it as a weapon." He met his brother's eyes - opaque now, crazed and shining with tears in his memory. The past was dogging them both. Or maybe wars simply had long consequences. He should have paid more attention when his father had spoken about ending wars as well as fighting them.

"How would you feel about breaking another one?"

"You got an idea, Captain?" Barton said.

Steve looked around at them all. "Yeah. We're outnumbered and they know exactly where to find us. So instead of waiting around here for them to attack us, hit 'em where they live. Where they're not expecting it. Break their transport so they can't send any more of their guys."

"Are you suggesting... that we go to Jotunheim?" Natasha said.

"Back to Jotunheim?" Jane said. 

"A raid on Jotunheim," Thor murmured. He almost laughed. "A bold stroke. No, they definitely will not expect that." Since he'd broken Asgard's bridge and the frost giants hadn't appreciated it, it seemed only just to break their bridge as well. That would teach them a lesson. In spite of the grim circumstances, a spark of excitement lit in his heart. Jotunheim was not a realm where you worried about smashing things by accident; it was where you went to smash things on purpose. Months in Midgard had been restrictive. He wanted to move.

"Cutting off their FTL transport might stop them from sending more guys," Banner said, "but the ones that are here - they'll be cornered. It might piss them off. A bit."

"A stranded alien army? The Council isn't going to like that," Natasha said. "Nobody's going to like that."

"Will they dislike it enough to engage their forces?" Steve asked.

Barton and Natasha shared a considering look. "They'll have to engage somehow. They won't be able to leave a hostile force in the middle of New York," Barton said.

"So the army will be back in play," Steve said. 

"Force their hand," Banner mused. "Make ourselves some allies."

"You're getting wily, Rogers," Tony said. "I kind of like it. It might get a lot of those soldiers out there killed, though." 

Steve looked troubled, but he said, "They're the U.S. military, Stark. They fight to protect our country. Don't try to tell me that alien army is just going to turn around and go home once they realize what a pushover the Council is. The sooner we blow up their bridge, the fewer of them there'll be."

"Wait, but - " Jane said. "You'll have to get to Jotunheim. At least, Thor will. My teleporter can only transport me. I hope you're not going to expect Erik and me to come up with something on the fly here - I wish I could do it, but there's just not enough time."

Steve shook his head. It took him a few moments to answer, and when he did, he sounded half unwilling. "Maybe you can't transport us, but I bet _he_ can."

Everyone followed his gaze to look at Loki.

"One sees why they bothered to unfreeze you," he said. "Yes. I could bring a small party across worlds."

"How many people?" Steve asked.

"Fewer is better."

"Jotunheim is inhospitable to humans," Thor said. "If we do this, it should be only my brother and I." Himself to break the bridge and Loki to take him. The fewer people this matter put at risk, the better. 

"And Jane, of course," Loki said, looking down at her. A far too lingering look. 

"What?" Thor said.

"Jane?" Erik protested. "Why Jane, why would Jane go?"

"Because," Loki said. "If she doesn't, I can't. And then no one can."

"Right," Natasha said. "Tony filled us in. Interesting strategic choice, doctor."

"It was a little, um, off-the-cuff," Jane said, looking slightly flustered under Natasha's scrutiny. "I wasn't expecting..." She trailed off. "The implications just keep coming, don't they?" She fell silent and then said, "I'm going to get in your way."

That damned, unbreakable oath: if they wanted Loki to go somewhere willingly, they had to allow Jane to go, too. "We can't simply send Jane into the middle of a battle with giants," Thor said. Any stray blow could kill her; even if she wore one of Tony's metal suits, it wouldn't withstand jotun weapons for long.

"I can stay out of the battle," she said. "Actually... really planning on doing that."

"Someone else should go along," Steve said. "To watch your back." Someone trustworthy, he didn't need to add. Someone to guard against a double-cross by Loki, in case he decided in the middle of the mission that leaving Thor to the jotuns and vanishing with Jane was a preferable option. 

"I did fix that freezing problem," Tony said. "Is this the plan? Is this what we're doing? Because we all realize it depends entirely on Loki following through, right?"

A ring of suspicious stares surrounded Loki. Thor had seen his brother encircled by enemies many times, but it still felt jarring to be among them. He had the ghost of an urge to leap into the ring to Loki's side, as if they were in Nornheim or Utgard and might fight their way out and ride home in triumph as they had in days past.

Steve stood up and somehow, in one movement, became their leader. "Convince us you're on our side," he said. 

And Thor felt himself leaning forward a hair's breadth, eager to hear, eager to be persuaded. Even if it was only temporary. 

Loki's chin came up and the corners of his mouth tightened. 

"I am not," he said, "on your _side_ , and I never will be, you pathetic lot of base creatures. But so long as you have Jane Foster as your hostage here, I will do as you ask. Only so long."

His eyes came to rest on Jane again, tarrying, impenetrable. The momentary hope of comradeship crumbled: but at least it was an alliance.


	16. Three Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! Thank you so much for your encouragement and good luck wishes (and your patience!). It's a relief to be finished with school. 
> 
> While I've been on fic holiday, other people have been busy: SylphJr has been making AMAZING chapter art for this story and Miss Anna Dee has just starting posting some awesome illustrations! You can see them at:  
> http://allbornmad.tumblr.com/  
> and  
> http://miss-anna-dee.deviantart.com/gallery/  
> Have a look and drop them a comment/like/reblog if you're so inclined!

Tony had salvaged a Chitauri flier. It sat on the landing pad in the gathering dusk, its lines clean and foreign: a design conceived in a realm so distant it was not even part of the World Tree. It hardly looked strong enough to carry two people.

"I've got a couple of them I'm going to reverse engineer," Tony said. "Haven't quite managed to find the time yet. Alien invasions cause a pretty big R&D backlog."

"It would be infinitely faster to go by myself," Loki said. He looked ashen and drawn, his jaw clenched with some emotion he wouldn't name. The strain of leaving Jane in the middle of a city full of frost giants and war machines, perhaps. "I could return in ten minutes. This will take hours."

"Yeah, and if only you weren't literally a deity of lies, we might trust you to come back in time."

Since the entire plan hinged on Loki's traveling abilities, no one, least of all Thor, wished to let him out of their sight. But Loki wanted his armor: not the varied and colorful illusions he conjured up to impress, but his real, nearly indestructible Asgardian armor, given to Jane and sunken into the sea with the flying fortress months ago. So they were going to retrieve it before the sun rose and the raid on Jotunheim began.

It was troublesome - the journey would indeed take hours - but Thor had agreed without reluctance. Nothing in Jotunheim or on Earth and very little in Asgard could pierce that metal, and it could not be removed by force. If Loki had been wearing it when the jotuns had captured him, they would never have been able to wound him as gravely as they had. If they were going back to Jotunheim, it was better to go protected. 

Loki’s repeated demands to go alone, however, had put him on guard, especially after he had scarcely agreed to cooperate in the first place. So he held onto his brother as they climbed onto the flier, Mjolnir ready all the while. 

Loki's hands found the controls without hesitation, something he must have learned in the year he'd been gone, out there wandering unknown realms. If Thor could learn what had happened during that year, he thought he might crack the barrier Loki had thrown up between them; but Loki had never spoken of it, not once, not during his mad attempt to conquer Midgard or his imprisonment on the fortress or in the days since he'd returned from Jotunheim. It was a blank space. 

"Come back soon," Jane said. She was standing next to Tony, arms wrapped around herself against the cold, the evening breeze stirring her hair. "You know where I'll be." She gave him a cheeky grin.

"Too much information," Tony said. "Have a fun, educational field trip and try to bring that thing back in one piece, OK? Or I'll make you go capture me a new one."

"Have no fear," Thor said. "We'll return in some hours. Be ready!"

They flew out over the city, hidden from the mortals' sight by Loki's magic. The streets were full of snow and lights, the buildings mostly dark, especially as they sped away from the center. Then they were out over the ocean, salt-scented wind whipping at their hair. 

By the time land drew out of sight, it was night, and the stars drifting out in a dark blue sky. Loki increased the flier's speed, straight north into the wind. He was leaning low over the handlebars as if he could make the machine go faster.

"It won't be long," Thor shouted. The wind carried the words away, and Loki did not hear them, or pretended not to. 

It was strange to think that his brother wanted to be back near Jane just as much as he did. Strange and not at all pleasant. While Loki had been gone, Thor had been able to pretend nothing had changed; but in the day since he had returned, his presence had become more difficult to bear every hour. The constant need to _watch_ set Thor's teeth on edge. Almost as bad was trying to make sense of Loki's actions. He could not tell if Loki _liked_ Jane, or would have killed her if he were capable of it, or was simply using the oath as a means to get under Thor's skin. 

If the latter, it was certainly working. He did not imagine this could continue forever. The situation was too fragile to last. Something would have to break, and he was very much afraid that it would be his vigilance. He couldn't be watchful every second.

The task of recovering Loki's armor could not take his mind from his troubles, either; he was reminded, with ill-humor, of precisely what Loki had demanded from Jane in return for it. He did not know if it was better or worse that she had not kissed him willingly. Either way, it was yet another pebble on the mountain of unfinished business between them. And if the tense set of Loki’s shoulders was any indication, he was every bit as aware of that mountain as Thor was. 

They flew for two hours at least without speaking, Loki following a sure and unhesitating path to where his armor lay buried in the ocean. At last he slowed the flier, bringing it down in narrowing circles until it rested on the surface of the water that stretched out, dark and choppy, as far as the eye could see in every direction.

"Here," he said, and dove in without another word. 

Thor had no time to reconsider. He hurled Mjolnir straight down into the sea and let it pull him after Loki. The ocean closed over his head, the water cold and dark and living. He stopped breathing.

He fell like a stone, the weight of the hammer stronger than any current. He could see nothing, feel nothing but the heaviness of water on all sides: an all-encompassing lightless embrace. He fell and fell until with a disorienting jolt the blackness spun around him and he thought he was flying up into an inky sky. Then Mjolnir hit something with a dull thud he felt through the tiny waves it sent through the water. His sense of direction returned. 

His feet came to a rest on a curving surface. When he stretched out a hand, he could feel it, rough and corroded into tiny mountain ranges under his fingers. The skin of the sunken fortress. He could not tell where Loki was, but without a weight pulling him down he would have fallen slower. 

Thor spun Mjolnir in a wide circle. The water refused to obey him; he had power over the sky, not the sea. He thrust the hammer over his head and sent light and power radiating up through its haft, up through hundreds of feet of water to the surface. Even down here he could feel the storm forming in the air, clouds rolling together heavy and black and groaning with thunder. The sea began to move; the waves became part of the storm and, subsumed into it, fell under his command. He made the currents part around him, leaving him in a comparatively dry bubble. Once Mjolnir's light faded, it was pure black, a black without even a hint of light in it. 

He called the lightning, and it branched down out of the clouds and into the water, lighting up for only an instant the ocean floor and the broken fortress and the tiny creatures floating like dust in the sea. In that instant he glimpsed Loki, still swimming down with quick, powerful strokes. Even as the darkness closed in again, he bent the currents to carry Loki to him. His brother burst through the roof of the bubble in a shower of droplets and crashed onto the surface of the fortress. 

"Let's go," Thor said, groping for him in the dark.

"Light that lasts for more than a second would be helpful, surely?" Loki said. A tiny flame appeared floating over his hand. It was not magic, Thor saw, but a human device for carrying fire: a small colorful rectangle with metal parts on top that struck a spark. Tony called it a lighter. 

Loki made a movement over it with his hand. The plastic grew and changed shape and color until it became a piece of wood and the tiny flame on top a leaping blaze. The torch burned without smoke and cast an even light despite the motion of the flames. 

"There," Loki said. " _Now_ let's go."

Thor took him by the arm and slammed Mjolnir down onto the metal beneath their feet. It shattered inwards with a scream, revealing - water filling the space below. It fled before them as Thor pulled Loki down with him into the wreckage. 

They were in a ruined corridor, metal everywhere bent and twisted by pressure. Water ran down the walls and pooled on the floor, slimy with algae and mud. Black barriers of water ahead and behind them marked the end of their bubble; the surfaces gleamed faintly in the torchlight.

"This place has hardly changed at all," Loki said. His voice sounded hollow in the stuffy space. "As inhospitable as ever."

"It's a wreck," Thor said. It had been thoroughly devastated. If he had not known about the frost giants' revenge, he might have thought Loki had orchestrated his escape on purpose in a manner that left the greatest possible trail of destruction behind him.

The metal groaned as they passed, girders protesting against the unnatural movements of the currents. He hoped they would hold; digging through the rubble if the structure collapsed would take more time again. He remembered the warren of corridors, unlovely but numbered, and the way to Jane's work room. They hurried, but it still took too long; in places the whole skeleton of the fortress had been crushed, closing the familiar paths, and he had to find new routes. 

The work room itself was a wasteland of water-logged machines jabbing sharp corners into their bubble or passing by like ghosts just outside it. His feet passed over the spot where he had killed a human on the night the Pallas soldiers had come for Loki. He could not tell which of the tables had housed Jane's computer - most had collapsed. It was a distorted specter of the past. 

"There," Loki said. The muscles of his arm tensed under Thor's hand. 

The cabinet where Jane had hidden Loki's armor had fallen over, leaving the shining six-sided object in plain view. No spot of rust or algae marred the green and gold. Thor let go of Loki's arm to pick it up - something with proper weight and strength in this world of glass. 

The instant he did so, Loki jerked back out of reach, plunging straight into the water. Thor spun as the light receded. The torch still burned, wavering as if through poorly blown glass. Loki was but a shadow flitting away into the depths. 

"Loki!" he shouted, even though it was pointless. He felt rather than heard thunder crash in the storm clouds high above them, waves rearing too high, winds rising. Not even a word, not even a half-second of hesitation, the very first opportunity - 

He was angry.

He chased the light. The air moved with him, awkwardly, more of a wave with a dry wedge in it than a bubble. He was soaked. The torch remained barely in sight, wavering like a star as he followed it through twists and turns. He strained to keep up, but at last it winked out of sight, just as he came out into an open space. 

He skidded to a stop; the ground was uneven and slippery, tilting at a drunken angle beneath his feet. It was entirely dark. He pushed the water out, out, as far as it would go. His breath rang loud in his ears. The heady rush of anger made him incautious. He thrust Mjolnir toward the heavens and, far way, the lightning answered. He felt it, a prickle on the nape of his neck, as it forked down in search of him. Blinding light embraced the walls, leaping to tangle in crooked ribbons around the hammer's head. It could not harm him, not his own lightning, but he could not hold it forever, either.

In the flash he saw a cavernous space, the floor listing steeply down to a wide window frame filled with black water instead of glass. Even in its state of decay, he recognized it: the bridge of the helicarrier. The platform where Director Fury had overseen operations was swept clean, merely a pitted and dented sheet of metal now. The lower level where Fury's men had worked was littered with debris. The frost giants had torn through everything when they'd come. 

As the lightning burned out, he had a sense of the ceiling, painfully bowed by pressure, and the walls on the far side of the room cracked open to the ocean. Then dark fell again. His heart hammered in his chest. The space had been empty as far as he could see.

The afterimage still burned in his eyes and so he did not recognize the torchlight as quickly as he should have. 

The stab in the back he'd been dreading came in silence: a sharp, brittle strike to his left hamstring that sent him crashing to the floor. He rolled away, slipping down the rusted metal with his burdens in hand until he fetched up against the remains of the platform's railing. His disappointment stung far more than the blow. 

Braced precariously against the rotting railing, he clambered to his feet and looked for Loki. 

His brother stood by the door, the torch in one hand, cold contempt written all over him.

"You always fall for it," he said. "Someday you'll blunder into a trap you can't get out of, Thor."

It had been a ruse: his hostility at the Avenger's meeting, his reluctance to have Thor accompany him here. He had made himself appear as untrustworthy as possible so Thor would not let him out of sight - only a trick to lure him away from Jane. He must have been planning it from the moment he returned to Stark Tower.

But he had not gone yet, and that meant he _did_ want his armor. 

Thor wedged the gold-and-green hexagon into the corner of the railing. He placed Mjolnir on top of it and stepped away, folding his arms. A challenge. 

"Oh," Loki said, shaking his head. "Do you truly believe you're a match for me without Mjolnir? As arrogant as ever. And they keep telling me you've changed."

A match? Hand-to-hand, Thor was easily superior. Hand-to-magic, no. Loki would hardly fight fair; he would cast every spell he knew until Thor was forced to call Mjolnir. But equally, the chance to fight a battle so heavily weighted in his favor would be too tempting for Loki to forgo. 

Something twisted painfully inside him. Just like the frost giants. How had his brother become his most implacable enemy? 

"Fight me, then, if you dare," Thor growled. There was no room for fear when anger had him in its grip. 

He didn't wait; he struck, wrenching the top bar off the railing and leaping through the air. He slammed the weak metal down on the crook of Loki's shoulder. It glanced off, dented, but Loki staggered, caught off-guard in mid-retort. The torch flew from his hand, rolling down the floor until it snagged in a pile of debris. The low angle of the light turned the wet surfaces into dark mirrors and the shadows into giants. 

Loki spun away, not bothering to try his hand at Mjolnir. He conjured one of his enchanted knives and sent it hissing through the air - but the aim was slightly off, and Thor avoided it easily.

The faced each other across the divide of the ruined platform where the Avengers had met for the first time.

"Let it be remembered that you struck first," Loki said, and hurled another blade. 

Thor dodged the blue flash, leaping onto the lower level of the floor and ducking behind a former work station. His feet skidded slightly on the slimy metal. 

A blade sheared through the edge of the pile of debris, slicing part of it clean off. It was misaimed again, not near enough to be a danger.

He needed to get close enough to use his hands or he would be reduced to running while Loki threw things at him. His brother's advantage would be less at close quarters, even with weapons at his disposal.

Thor darted out from behind his cover, barreling up to where Loki commanded the higher ground. Another blade flashed blue at him - a hair's breadth too far to the left. He evaded it. A third miss. 

He stopped. Loki did not; another knife flew at him, straight and true this time - but too slow. Thor grabbed it out of the air before it could strike him. It melted away between his fingers. 

Words might lie, but blows did not, and no one could read a fight better than Thor. These blades were not meant to kill. His fury simmered as he groped for an explanation. 

"Why - " he began.

"You're barely even trying," Loki interrupted. "What has happened to that temper of yours, god of thunder? Oh, but I know just how to bring it back." His voice turned sly. " _That woman._ "

Thor's anger flared again. His fingers twitched and he had to grit his teeth to keep from calling Mjolnir. That was what Loki wanted. 

"Your threats are empty, Loki," he said. "I will not be provoked." Unbidden, fragments of memory flashed through his mind. _A taste of things to come_ and Loki staring at Jane like a snake at a mouse. 

"I never said I wished to hurt her," Loki said. "Shall I tell you what I plan to do with her instead, after I take her from you?"

The tight rein Thor had kept on his temper snapped. He hurled himself up the bridge at Loki, leaped onto the platform - and ran straight through him. A duplicate. He spun, breathing hard. 

"Loki!"

He had not gone, Thor was certain. Loki wanted to have words. Damn words. He was of a mind to speak with fists. 

"Whatever designs you have conceived on Jane," he growled, "do not imagine you will ever be able to carry them out."

A shadow shot down at him from the bowed ceiling, quick as a spear: Loki, feet aimed squarely at his chest. Thor grabbed his legs before the impact and twisted, slamming him down onto the ground. The edge of the platform caught him in the back and he gasped aloud in pain. The metal crumpled; the entire sunken bridge shifted with a groan. Loki kicked and rolled, crashing onto the lower level. He staggered to his feet just as Thor jumped down after him, both of them slipping on the treacherous ground. 

Loki rounded on him, lips curling in a grimace of pain and resentment. Thor punched him full in the jaw, not holding back. His head snapped back and he went flying, all the way to the bottom of the bridge and through the frame where the window had been. Into the water. Thor slid after him, stopping at the edge, his arms wind-milling for balance. 

The water was slightly deeper than Loki was tall. For a moment, he stood on the ocean floor, looking up at Thor through a rippling veil, his face pale, his eyes wide open. Then he crouched and launched himself up, bringing a shower of water with him. 

One of his blades appeared in his hand. Thor blocked most of the blow, but the edge sliced along his forearm before vanishing into nothing. He grabbed Loki's clothing in both fists. 

Loki spat out a mouthful of blood and saltwater and said, "Why so wounded, Thor? Not quite so certain of your faithful beloved after all?" He tried to twist away, but Thor held him fast. They grappled, sliding on jagged metal and oozing mud, and Thor did not know if they were struggling for the armor or Jane or something else only Loki knew. 

Loki tried to kick his legs out from under him, but succeeded only in sending them both to the ground. They rolled, but Thor had the upper hand; he pinned Loki beneath him, one arm pressing down on his neck. 

"Don't bother insinuating," he said. "I know your lies only too well."

Loki thrashed against his hold. "I grow weary of you always pawing at me, Thor," he said, breath rasping. " _Let go._ "

"No," Thor said stubbornly. 

"You were eager enough to do so when I was hanging over the abyss!" Loki snapped, clawing at his arm. 

A chill crawled down Thor's spine at the words and the wild look in Loki's eyes. 

"Madman!" he said. "It was you who let go!"

Loki stilled and for a moment something desperate and frightened flitted across his face. "Why do you lie? I was there, I remember it!"

"Can you no longer tell your own lies from reality?" Thor said, some of his anger giving way to an ill feeling. 

Loki's gaze skittered away. He tore a ragged piece of metal out of the floor and slammed it into Thor's face. It did not break the skin, but it surprised him enough to allow Loki to twist sideways out from underneath him. Thor grabbed for his arm. 

"You take issue with lies, Odinson?" Loki said. "Then take the complaint to your father! Even this flesh is a lie."

The arm beneath Thor's hand suddenly turned blue and a cold intense enough to burn made him jerk back. Loki recoiled almost as quickly, stunned and furious. He wavered on his feet, shaken, his mask of polite menace lost. 

Thor had known for nearly a year, of course, but it was one thing to know and another to feel that unnatural, aching cold beneath his brother's familiar skin. 

"Why do you cling to these grudges even now?" he blurted in frustration. "You know I cannot and you know why!"

There was a frantic light in Loki's eyes. 

"Grudges," he said, seeming to forget why they were here, why they were fighting. "But grudges. What a sunny little bubble of a world you must live in, Thor. Well, since we shall never meet again, I will tell why I cling to them. The Norns were generous when they measured out your fate. Not so with me."

Snake venom and imprisonment and a year far, far from home, alone on unknown worlds filled with warlike strangers... Thor could not keep hold of his anger. 

"The Norns are not known for their kindness," he said. 

"Oh, but they are kind to some," Loki said. "They have always loved _you_."

"No more than any other man."

"No? The jotuns howl for your blood as much as mine and yet the mortals jump to lay down their puny lives for you. Meanwhile they slaver to throw me to my enemies. And what have I done that you have not?"

Madness. "You invaded their world and tried to make yourself their king."

"So did you!" Loki spat. "So did you!"

"What?" The reply brought him up short. He did not recall invading Midgard any time recently.

"Have you forgotten? Just a little thunder and lightning and the mortals worship you as a god? It was great fun, wasn't it, letting them build temples to you!"

He cringed at the memory. When they were young they had made sport of the humans, so much more primitive then. He and Loki and later, the Warriors Three, roaming in a land of snow and sea wilder than anywhere in Asgard but empty of any danger to them. It had been play. 

"That was a stupid and cruel game," he said, "but no one died of it. We were hardly more than children." That had been nine hundred years ago. Did Loki's resentment truly go back so far? 

"Yes, it was stupid," Loki said, panting. "As I told you at the time. But that’s not the point, that’s not the _point_ , Thor! _They still loved you._ They named a day after you!" He said it with the kind of outrage normally reserved for the foulest of murders. 

Mjolnir had impressed the mortals into enthusiastic devotion. They’d been less amused by Loki’s tricks, though they were harmless that time.

"And I deserved none of it," Thor replied. "But I didn't kill them, Loki." There had never been any glory in killing mortals. In his arrogance, he had pitied them for their short, weak lives, when they were not entertaining him. 

Loki scoffed. "You fret like a maiden over a litter of kittens. What does it matter if they die a bit sooner than otherwise? Do you mourn for mayflies, too?"

He would, he would; for longer than they had lived, he would mourn them. _Jane_. 

"If they are but insects," he said, "why do you require them to worship and love you?"

"I require nothing of them!" Loki snarled, advancing on him, punctuating his steps with accusations. "It's justice I require. Every living creature has always favored you. All of Asgard adored you. The mortals worship you. Father forgave you in _three days_. The first person to lay eyes on you in Midgard fell in _love_ with you."

He was _jealous_. Not only of Father’s love, but of everything, even things he would never care for if Thor did not. When he wanted to prove himself a king, he took the world Thor loved, when he needed a scientist to carry out his scheme, he took Erik, and now – Jane. As Thor had feared, as he had warned her months ago after she had told him of her bargain with Loki, the bargain gone wrong. 

"And not with you, you mean," he said. Though how Loki could call humans insects one moment and be jealous of Jane’s affection the next escaped him. His reason had become as twisted as his memory.

Loki ignored him. "And you deserve none of it! Be honest - if Father hadn't taken your power when he banished you here, would you have been content to live as one of them? Would you not have sought to rule them?"

He would have taken Mjolnir and made them worship him as they had in the past. He would have abused the power granted to him and proved himself unworthy of it again. 

“You miss the truth,” he said. “That is why he took my power. The punishment had a purpose.”

“What punishment? It was three days! Three days on Midgard for treason!”

Three days during which so much had changed. Looking back, he could see himself through the centuries, Thor the hot-headed braggart and Loki, his shadow, always urging caution, always following in his footsteps. And then he had come home to find they had changed places: now he restrained, he followed, while his brother courted destruction, fuelled by a rage Thor had no idea he’d been hiding.

But perhaps that was Loki’s true grievance. Not the foolhardy adventures, not the arrogant games or war-mongering or even Father’s favor. But the fact that something had eaten away at Loki for years and Thor had never noticed. 

“Three days was enough,” he said. 

“No one changes so much in three days,” Loki said. “Especially not you. What did she _do_?” He gripped Thor’s shirt, baring his teeth.

How to explain that it had not taken three days, but mere moments? His confidence had vanished like a drop of water in a bonfire as his hand closed on Mjolnir and found it would not budge. And finally it had sunk in: the All-Father had found him wanting. Not merely as a father, but as king of the gods, as supreme ruler. He was nothing, all his victories, all his exploits were revealed to be vanity. He was unworthy. 

He had wanted nothing more than to spend the few years left to him proving that judgment wrong, proving himself worthy – if decades could make up for the centuries he’d wasted. And then Loki had come and told him Father was dead and he knew he would never have the chance now to repair what he’d done and the sorrow had seeped so deep into his bones it was still there even now. A sorrow for the end of life such as he had never experienced before. 

He had walked out of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s custody and into Jane’s tiny home and never wanted to leave her. 

He wanted to explain, but he could not offer up those moments to Loki’s mockery and incomprehension. “Jane did nothing,” he said instead. “You need not take your vengeance on her. But you are right. I was no better than you. If I can change, brother, so can you.”

Loki pushed him so hard he went flying and crashed into the remains of the upper platform. He pulled himself up to the sight of Loki clawing a path towards him up the tilting floor. 

“No,” he said, wobbling. “No, it’s too late for that. I’ve come too far. You have no idea, Thor.”

He fell to his knees, his fingers splaying on the metal. The angles of his face smoothed into a mask of concentration, emotion fading away. He was not injured; he was working some demanding sorcery.

The walls groaned. Something behind Thor shifted, a harsh scraping of metal against metal that made the small hairs on his neck shiver. He peered into the darkness, trying to divide his attention between whatever was stirring there and Loki.

“Loki…?” he said. 

Something damp was shining in the light. It moved slowly, slowly, so slowly he had to lean closer to see. 

“Symmetry,” Loki muttered behind him. 

Great black coils burst out of the darkness. Faster than he could dodge, they wrapped around his arms and legs, pulling him scraping along the rotted floor. They felt like metal against his skin and red streaks like rust crisscrossed them, but they moved like serpents. Mercilessly strong serpents, wrapping around and around his waist and limbs and twining a steely tendril around his neck. They pinned him on his back to the floor. 

A diamond-shaped head rose from the writhing mass, black and silver and pitted. Its jaws opened; lightning crackled between its fangs. It sank its teeth into his side and a blinding pain radiated through him. His head connected with the floor, teeth clenching as specks of light danced before his eyes. 

The pain receded and his senses returned to find a weight settling on his chest. Loki’s knee pressed against his heart. His brother’s face swam into view.

“Is this really how you wanted our last meeting to go?” Loki said, smoothly as if nothing had passed between them. 

A blue blade flashed into his hand. He pressed the point against Thor’s neck, just behind his ear. It drew blood: Thor could feel the sting, the trail of moisture dripping down his skin. 

“This is not our last meeting,” he said, gasping. 

“It is. I’m afraid I must take my leave.” Loki leaned closer, a cruel smile tugging at his lips. “And there’s one other thing I will take. Didn’t I promise to tell you what I’m going to do with her?”

“You’ll do nothing,” Thor said.

“Did you know,” Loki went on, heedless, “in Vanaheim there grows a certain vine called _mildromin_. They use its fruit to make a sweet wine, and anyone who drinks it loses all memory of the one they love. An infallible cure for broken hearts. It causes no harm to the patient at all. Of course, it need not be drunk on purpose to be effective.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “And then, when not even a shadow of you is left to trouble her mind…”

“Your plans merely reveal how hollow you are,” Thor managed to say. “You can only steal by trickery what she would never give willingly.”

Loki seemed to consider the words carefully. Shadows pooled in his dimples. “No,” he said. “No, I don’t suppose she would.”

And with that odd parting shot, he withdrew the knife from Thor’s neck and jumped up. 

“Don’t stay in New York after we’ve gone,” he said. 

He turned on his heel and vanished, abandoning his armor; and as he went, the serpents entwined around Thor’s body shrieked and twisted, tearing away with such force as they transformed back into girders that the whole structure of the bridge came crashing down onto him.

Mjolnir flew to his hand, its familiar weight a sweet comfort. He swept away the mess of rusted metal around him with a single stroke. Above him the ceiling of the air bubble rippled. In the faint glow of the torch that remained he could barely make out the glimmer of Loki’s armor. He took it, and hurled Mjolnir back up to the blessed sky.

When he burst through the surface of the ocean, the storm was still raging, but it calmed quickly when he willed it away, clouds dispersing and waves shrinking. When the water had subsided into a smooth shining blanket in the moonlight, he searched for Tony’s flier. It took some time to find, bobbing miraculously on the slow swell. He did not know how to fly it, so he merely stored the armor in it and kept a hold of it with one hand while Mjolnir carried him home.

Even so burdened, he returned more quickly than the flier had brought them. Though not so quickly, of course, as Loki could travel. 

When he arrived at Stark Tower, the lights were dark. He circled the building, depositing the flier on the landing pad before flying straight for the floor where he and Jane and Erik slept. 

The windows were broken, shards of glass littering the floor. No one was there except for Loki, sitting at the table with his hands balled into fists. Thor landed across from him and set the armor on the floor. 

“She wasn’t here,” Loki said through gritted teeth. He was so tense it seemed he might shatter into pieces at the merest touch.

“She guessed what you would do,” Thor said. 

He had not wanted to believe it, but had conceded reluctantly that it was better to be cautious. She had gone with Tony to find somewhere that still served pizza at this hour and in a city on the brink of war. 

Loki put his hands over his face and kept them there for a long time. The scars that marred them were stark white in the moonlight. 

“Of course she did,” he said. 

When he took his hands away, his expression might have been carved in stone. But the façade could no longer deceive. Too many words had been said, words Loki would never have let cross his lips if he’d believed he and Thor would ever meet again.

Thor sat down, his muscles still aching from the enchanted serpent’s bite, the slash across his forearm burning.

“You must travel with us to Jotunheim at dawn,” he said. “I’m prepared to do whatever is necessary to ensure that.”

Loki didn’t reply. The silence stretched out, painful and heavy. Thor tried to find something of the brother he remembered in that blank, cold face, the unkempt hair, the damaged hands; but the visions of former days were slipping, slipping away like sand through his fingers. If they had ever been true at all. Perhaps he had only ever seen what he wished to.

“Do you not recall…” he began, and stopped. The distance could not be bridged by the past, a past so different in Loki’s mind it might as well be a foreign land. He did not know what else to speak of; he would not speak of Jane, he could not speak of Father or Mother. 

His eye fell on one of the books scattered alongside the papers on the table. It was one of Erik’s, a collection of stories passed down through the centuries since Thor and Loki had first visited Midgard – garbled, barely recognizable accounts with only a grain of truth to them, from what Thor had read. They could not compare to the sagas of Asgard. Those, at least, were something they had both loved, listening rapt when Mother recited them during the long nights.

“Do you recall the story of Björn Ironside?” he said. And began to talk, telling every tale he could remember until his throat went dry. His voice filled the silence, driving it back into the corners of the room until he could allow himself to relax, bit by bit.

Loki said nothing, only sat motionless as a statue, staring at his hands. But he did not try to escape, or call up any magic, or muster any insult. When the first slivers of dawn crept in through the broken window, he stood up and walked toward the door, his jaw set. 

“Wait,” Thor said. He was, he found, tired, more tired than he should be. He picked up the armor. “You should wear it.” They had spared no effort to retrieve it.

Loki stopped at the door and half-turned. “Give it to Jane,” he said, sounding equally weary. “Unless you want to see a jotun spear through her middle.”

At least there was one thing they could agree on, Thor reflected with a rare twinge of irony as he followed Loki down to the control center. Jane.


	17. Smoke and Mirrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to let everyone know (belatedly) that the tags for this story have changed. Some of the tags I have up, especially the ones in the "additional" category, are provisional and it's quite possible that I'll be changing them again. Sorry for any inconvenience/disappointment.
> 
> Sorry also for the slow updating! I'm working on it.

"Are you really wearing that?" Tony said, the skepticism in his voice clear as a bell through his helmet. 

Steve shrugged his blue-clad shoulders. "We're going to another planet. Gotta represent the home team."

"I don't think the spangles are striking fear into anyone's heart. Now Foster, on the other hand..." He shot a meaningful look at Jane.

Loki's armor had lost none of its deadly shimmer in adjusting to Jane's size and shape. To a stranger it no doubt looked formidable, but to Thor's eyes it was merely peculiar, a jarring mixture of familiar and unfamiliar. It did not look borrowed, but... new. He would have given her his own armor were it not bound to the bearer of Mjolnir, but he found the sight of her in Loki's colors did not needle at him as he'd expected. It felt more like a concession than a victory - and after the fight in the sunken fortress, his capacity to be angry at his brother seemed to have withered. 

"You resemble a tiny, deadly dragonfly," he murmured. Between himself, Jane, Steve, and Tony, the Avengers control room was far more colorful than usual. 

"And you resemble a Disney prince," she whispered back, confusingly. "How come you'll bring out the cape and helmet for the frost giants and not for me, huh?" The joke was a touch strained; he had told her, briefly, of the past night's events. She did not look happy to be right. That made three of them, and for the second time irony pinched him when he realized that the debacle had ended, somehow, with all of them in agreement.

He dared not guess how long this fragile new stalemate would last. In the raw dawn everything felt hazy, unsettled. A balance had been upset and he could not see where it would shift. But things had changed, that he could see in the way Loki brooded in silence and avoided his eyes. 

His brother stood apart from them, watching the sun rise. Nothing of the previous dawn's arrogance clung to him now. That illusion had crumbled under last night's blows, revealing a far more brittle Loki, convinced if anything of his own unworthiness. To Thor's eyes, he seemed only lost, half-drowned in a sea of bitterness and resentment. Clinging, through all of it, to his own version of a past that he could not let go.

Thor had a sense that they were once more hanging over an abyss and Loki was but a hand's breadth away, a hand's breadth too far. If he would but _hold on_ \- 

"We should get going," Steve said. "We want to be back before nightfall."

Erik, Pepper, and Dr. Banner had come to see them off. 

"You OK to hold them off if the attack comes during the day?" Steve asked.

"Hard to tell," Banner said. "I haven't tested... the other guy against magical blue giants before. At least they should be simple targets."

"The new security system is as ready as it's going to be," Pepper said.

"Just in case it's not... you know where the escape pods are, right?" Tony said.

"And leave my baby behind?" she said with a brave smile. "Come back in one piece."

"Hey, these guys may be tall, but last I checked they can't fly."

Pepper said something in reply, but Thor was distracted by Erik warning him, with a familiar glint in his eye, not to let anything happen to Jane, prompting her to protest that he was being overprotective. They settled into a short, fond argument until Steve jumped in. 

"Thor, you ready?" he said. "This one's mostly on you."

"Have no fears for me, Captain," Thor said. It was only the others that concerned him. The quicker this was done, the better. 

"Loki?" Steve said. Seven wary pairs of eyes flew to the figure by the window. They were all keenly aware that they were about to put themselves in his power, and he had proven only a few hours before that trust was impossible. A lack of other options would have to suffice to hold them together. 

Loki turned, not looking at Thor. "I said fewer was better."

"Five is pretty few," Tony said. "Wait... is this the kind of thing where we have to hold hands? I call Foster."

"Already taken," Jane said, slipping her fingers into Thor's.

"Damn. Rogers?"

"Uh..." Steve glanced nervously at Pepper. 

Loki ignored them and walked to the elevator. He pressed the button. 

"Tony has a point," Jane said. "How is this going to work? I'm assuming you're not going to... carry anyone?"

"Disappointed?" Loki said, without venom. "No. It works exactly as it does for you or me."

"You're straight-up going to manipulate five probability fields at once?" she said, incredulous. Then, to Tony: "That's basically five arc reactors worth of power... the odds of finding a pathway where five people's fates overlap, it's - no wonder you couldn't just teleport your army here," she finished meditatively. 

"You are full of insights lately," Loki said. He was lost in concentration, barely listening to his own words. Thor recognized that look, the intensity that he felt himself when he summoned a storm. 

The elevator dinged and the door slid open. On the other side was not the usual cramped little box, but - a series of red arches receding into the distance, the final one with another door set in it. 

"Whoa," Steve said. Everyone leaned forward, mesmerized, danger momentarily forgotten. 

Loki walked through the door and into the avenue of arches. "Hurry," he said. "It's difficult to keep the path stable."

Thor followed next, alert for any hint of a threat or - treachery. He could perceive no danger from Loki or from their surroundings. He felt Jane, Steve, and Tony fall into line behind him. 

The door in the last arch opened into a small black room with an oculus in its domed ceiling. They slipped through to a doorway on the opposite wall; it led them out a gatehouse onto a rickety bridge over a gorge, a twin building on the far side. The sky was blue and fresh above them as if it had recently rained. 

"All right, I was wrong," Steve said through the creak of wood. "Some things can still surprise me."

"This is amazing!" Jane said, breathless, all peril forgotten in the excitement of discovery. 

The second gatehouse door took them to a misty crag surrounded by mountain peaks Thor instantly recognized. 

"Niflheim," he said, surprised. There was no reason, of course, why every place they set foot in must be unknown, but the sudden familiarity startled him. They had visited this realm often, he and his brother. 

He saw Loki's head turn at the word, a faint sheen of sweat at his temple. He said nothing. 

They found a door waiting for them in the mountainside and this time Thor tensed as Loki pushed it open. It occurred to him that one of these gateways might just as easily land them in Asgard. If fate would consent to lead them there. He wondered if Loki had thought of that possibility, and supposed he must have. He would have said nothing of it in any case. Perhaps he had enough to control over the path to find a route that skirted the Realm Eternal. 

For the rest of the journey, Thor could not shake the image in his mind's eye of golden towers appearing in every door frame. And it was a long journey; Jane must have been right about the difficulty of finding a way. 

Finally, the last door led them out into the endless winter night of Jotunheim. Flurries of snow danced through the air, dusting the flagstones beneath their feet. Halls of stone lining the wide street cast deep shadows. A brilliant, changeful light emanated from somewhere to their right: the white dome, which stood in the middle of the city of Gastropnir. 

Thor had never been in one of their cities before. The stone looked half shaped by hand, half weathered by the elements, and the wind blew through the streets with a mournful whistle. It was rough, grim, inelegant, everything that Asgard was not, but the tingle of a realm heavy with magic still pricked him with homesickness. 

"Cold," Steve remarked. He did not look distressed, however; the flickering light illuminated an expression of quiet wonder on his face. 

"You have a way with words, Rogers," Tony said. His armor glinted as he turned, jerky with repressed energy, to take in the towering buildings, the foreign stars, the distant curve of the dome. 

The door to elsewhere faded behind them, becoming merely the entry to a curing hut again, and Loki breathed a sigh Thor doubted anyone else could hear. 

"Well?" he said, a trace of archness returning. "There's your toy. Go smash it."

"There might be some kind of security," Steve said. "Guards, maybe. We should scout the target out first."

"I agree," Thor said. From here, he could see two of the silver towers Jane had mentioned when describing the bridge. "Those towers are unlike usual jotun construction. I'd like a closer look."

Tony wrapped an arm around Jane's waist and spun her off the ground and into the air - safely out of reach of Loki down below. At least he would not be able to leave them stranded as long as Jane stayed out of his grasp. 

Tony and Jane shot up only a few feet before they vanished. 

"Stay low or you'll be visible again," Loki said to the empty air. "Those colors are conspicuous."

"Do they have pine trees here?" Tony's voice said in Thor's ear. All five of them were outfitted with tiny communication devices in their ears, clever things that ran on Earth science. "We're just the right size to be a giant's Christmas ornament."

"This is really a lot of metal. Especially when you're flying," Jane said, sounding slightly uncomfortable. If he concentrated, Thor could make out the dull whisper of Tony's jets. 

"Follow us, Stark," Steve said, and sprang into motion.

The three of them ran toward the light, deeper into the city. Thor could see Steve and Loki as long as they stayed close; if they drifted further than a few feet, they faded from view. He hoped shrouding all of them in invisibility at once was not taxing Loki's magic too heavily, especially after the journey here had so obviously drained him. 

The streets were not empty, and as they drew closer to the dome and its towers they encountered more and more people - giants stalking from house to house, spilling out of doors or into them, talking, drinking. When Thor glimpsed the inside of a dwelling it looked cold and uninviting, too cavernous and dark to resemble a home. He supposed to the jotuns it must be as comfortable as a seat in front of a roaring fire. 

Invisible or not, they avoided the city's inhabitants as much as they could, veering away from sounds and creeping around the occasional knots of people wandering the streets. Once they waited, backs pressed to a freezing wall, as a rowdy party of half-clad women ran through a crossroads, shouting and tossing a checkered ball from person to person. Their passing made the stones tremble beneath Thor's feet. 

At first the houses had grown larger and denser the further they ran, but as the white dome loomed ahead of them, the pattern reversed: suddenly the street widened even more, meandering like a stream breaking up into a delta. Gaps appeared between each rough-cut hall and many of them appeared ruined, the steep roofs full of holes and the walls crumbling in places. Forlorn piles of snow had grown under the neglected eaves. 

At last they came to a - gate or fence, it was difficult to tell. A row of tall, crooked posts crossed the street and extended to either side for some distance, eventually losing itself among the ramshackle houses. Beyond it was an empty space, then another line of posts, then a wide-open circle of land where stood the dome and its attendant towers. 

The sight of that barrier filled Thor with foreboding, and he knew he was not alone, for Steve and Loki slowed their steps in tandem with him as they passed between the first posts. They gleamed in the shifting light, metal and some white material bright as snow. They were thin and lofty and curving inwards, the two rows meeting in a thick beam far above Thor's head. 

"Oh my God," Jane suddenly said through his earpiece. "What is _that_?"

"You might want to take a look at what you're standing in," Tony said grimly.

The three on the ground stopped. Thor stared at the peculiar obstacle, trying to imagine how it might appear from above. Two lines of curving posts, meeting at the top to form a sort of cage, laid out in a long sinuous line - 

A familiar image swam into his mind. "A beast!" The word escaped from his lips almost before he thought it.

"They're bones," Steve said. "Bones."

It was the skeleton of one of the Chitauri's flying monsters. Leviathans, S.H.I.E.L.D. had called them. It had come here - died here - and been left to rot where it fell. 

"We can see the skull from up here," Tony said. He flew into sight and alighted next to them, depositing Jane at his side. 

"What is it, some kind of flying cyborg snake?" she asked. She was the only one who had not been at the battle of New York. "Like the ones they showed on the news? It looks so much _bigger_."

"I've got a better question," Tony said. "What is it doing here?" He addressed the words to Loki and the metal mask hiding his features could not disguise the suspicion in his voice. 

But Loki seemed, if anything, more agitated than the rest of them. "Your guess is as good as mine," he said, staring up at the beam - _spine_ \- where the ribs of the beast touched. Thor did not know if he was getting better at perceiving his brother's emotions or if Loki was getting worse at hiding them, but he seemed almost - afraid. 

"I find that hard to believe," Tony said. "You led an army full of these things and you're telling me Moby Dick here just got lost and happened to end up on a planet that hates you? Don't think so, buddy."

"It was none of my doing," Loki snapped, clearly unwilling to say more about the matter. His uneasiness made Thor think he knew rather more than he was telling, but frustrating as it was, they could not stop to pry answers out of him now. 

"Then who brought it here?" Tony said, "Are space whales on sale at the intergalactic mini-mart or something?"

Loki glared at him, tight-lipped. He was easing away from the group, so subtly it was hardly noticeable. 

"It's obviously been here for a while," Jane said. "The meat parts are gone... however much of those it had. Loki's been locked up or - he hasn't been in charge of any kind of army for months. He can't have brought it here."

"Maybe he made a little stop on his way to Earth," Tony said. "To settle some unfinished genocide. Looks like it didn't go too well here, either. Don't you get tired of losing all the time?"

"Tony - " Thor said. The middle of a secret raid was no time for quarrels. "No matter how they arrived here, the bones are no threat now. We can discuss this after the mission." 

Tony was a good fighter, but Thor knew well that following other people's suggestions was not his strength. "What if it's a trap, Thor?" he said. "Maybe he's leading us into some nasty little surprise left over from the last time he was here." 

Loki smirked. "If I wanted to stab you in the back, Stark," he said, "I would use an actual blade. And you wouldn't see it coming any more than your friend - " 

Before he could say _Phil Coulson_ , Tony threw up a hand and shot a blast of energy at him.

The burst of light shocked Thor into battle mode, his blood suddenly singing hot within him. Mjolnir hummed. But before he could side with one or the other of them, Steve had leaped into the fray, casting his shield in front of the blast. The shaft of energy struck, bounced, and slammed into the stony ground, searing a black hole into it.

"Stark!" Steve hissed. "Knock it off!" 

The noise had already startled all of them into silence. For a moment they were frozen, listening for a response from the city. Thor held his breath and counted the seconds, but he heard nothing, no sign that they had disturbed the jotuns. 

"Right," Steve finally said in a low voice. "Mission, now. We'll deal with the other stuff when we get back. Tony?" 

"Sure, whatever," Tony said with a final glare at Loki. "Let's do this thing." 

They came out from under the second row of ribs into the great open space where the dome stood. It soared above their heads, the light writhing under its crystalline sheath in a dance of rainbows and sparks. Placed at four points around the dome were the towers: slanted, twisted, covered with sheets of a shiny silver metal like vast scales. Now that they were close, Thor saw that there were more of the silver spires, smaller ones scattered all around the dome. Only the sides facing the light had plates of silver riveted to them; the back sides were plain stone. He could see the towers reflecting the dome and each other in an endless jumble of repeated images: a cacophony of mirrors. 

"Those must be for directing the light," Jane said. "Like the one they've got in Central Park. Looks complicated." 

"That where it comes out, you think, doctor?" Steve asked, pointing. Thor could make out two round portals in the dome, near the ground and aligned with two of the large towers. 

"Seems like a solid guess," she said. "There are probably two more on the other side, then." 

"I don't see any guards," Thor said. That made him wary. 

"They're not expecting an attack," Steve said.

"No, but... there should be _something_." The space appeared entirely deserted except for the five of them. No jotuns, no guard beasts. The silence raised his hackles.

"Good security isn't obvious," Tony muttered.

"There's magic here," Loki said. 

They all turned to look at him. He strode towards one of the big towers, staying in the shadow of its dull back. He stopped at its foot and ghosted a hand over its surface, not touching it. Then he shook his head and murmured something to himself under his breath.

"What is it?" Jane said. 

He turned and surveyed them, hidden in the shadows. "They're not just mirrors. They're eyes - better than living eyes, since they can't be fooled by a concealment spell. The jotuns are watching the bridge through them." 

Eyes, tens of them, that would have spotted Thor instantly if he had flown out to the dome. 

"Good to know," Steve said slowly.

"If it's true," Tony said.

"The frost giants can see everything that's in the mirrors?" Jane asked.

If it had only been the four massive ones and if they had been perfectly aligned, it would not have been any great obstacle. But they were placed at angles, reflecting fragments of each other and mirroring the reflections again from tower to tower. Over and over, so that it did not seem possible to pass through them without being seen. 

"That's a hitch," Steve said. "Thor, how long will it take to shatter that thing? Can you do it before they send the cavalry?" 

"There's something else," Loki said before Thor could answer. "Some other magic... something peculiar." A frown colored his voice. "Hidden underneath. Very well hidden, I almost didn't notice it." He fell silent, fingers hovering over stone. 

"Can you tell what it is?" Thor said. 

Loki half-turned and then stopped. He backed away from the tower one slow pace at a time. "No one step in front of the mirrors," he said, not to Thor but to all of them in general. "There's a trap here. Something subtle."

"Great," Tony said. "Loki says don't step in front of the mirrors. If I didn't know better, I'd say you want this mission to fail. Oh, wait... I don't know better." 

"There might be a way through," Jane said cautiously.

"Got an idea?" Steve said.

"Not a specific one. Just that we don't know for sure the mirrors cover every possible path of approach. There might be - " 

"A blind spot," Tony said. "If I get a good view, I could calculate a path to the dome." 

"Like a causeway," Thor said.

"But when you get there, you're going to have to hit it right at the blind spot." 

"What happens when the... Einstein-Rosen distortion gets out?" Steve said to Jane, hesitating over the scientific terms. "Seems like something you don't want touching you."

She shook her head and shrugged, a sheen of light dancing down the line of her armor as she did so. "I'm really not sure. It's probably bad? It might transport you somewhere or just tear you apart. Or the energy might dissipate without doing anything. I'd recommend not trying to find out."

"Not sure this is one of your better plans, Rogers," Tony said. Before Steve could respond, Tony reclaimed Jane and launched them into the air again. They disappeared as the concealment spell shrouded them once more.

"Give me a few minutes here," Tony said in Thor's ear. "The suit's computer should be able to handle it. Just a lot of lines of trajectory." After a moment of silence, he said, "Start to your left, past the big tower. There's a sort of depression in the ground - " He issued a few more precise directions and Thor quickly found the place he was describing.

"Wait, Thor - " Loki said. He and Steve had followed Thor to Tony's starting point.

"Yes?" Thor said. For a moment, he forgot their task entirely. 

Loki hesitated. He still seemed on edge, as if the discovery of the Leviathan had strained his composure to the breaking point. "Mind your cape," he said finally. 

Whatever he'd truly meant to say remained unsaid. Thor turned back to the matter at hand, trying to put other concerns out of his mind. A misstep could mean - any one of a host of unpleasant possibilities. Magic was as limitless as the wielder's will. 

In the silence his footsteps crunched on the thin layer of snow dusting the ground. The tallest towers loomed like sentinels to either side, their surfaces murky in the doubtful light. The moment Thor stepped past them, a prickle of goosebumps ran along his skin. He stopped, half-sure that he'd blundered into a line of sight already, so strong was the feeling of being watched.

"Problem?" Tony's voice said in his ear. 

Eyes indeed. He shook the feeling off.

"No," he said. "Guide my steps."

Tony did, letting the sharpness of his tongue idle in order to issue brisk instructions. Straight ahead for fifteen paces, then stop, then six along a diagonal, one forward, then edge around the side of the first of the smaller mirrors. Then he was in the thick of it and everywhere he looked he saw frost-etched silver reflecting pieces of the dome, the shine of other mirrors and of mirrors within mirrors. But nowhere, that he could see, was there any flash of red; as heavy as the eyes felt on his back, they were blind to him.

As he drew closer on his tortuous path, he could feel a hum in the air, like a hive of bees buried far beneath the earth. It was the dome and its frantic, confined energy: a bare remnant of the Bifrost, but mighty still. It dominated every reflecting surface now, bright and eerie in the mirror world as it was here.

The light shone intensely enough that he avoided looking directly at it, letting his eyes roam the field of mirrors instead. He was passing a few feet from one of the last ones when something flashed at the corner of his vision. As fast as he could turn his head it ran, darting from mirror to mirror as if they were truly windows into another world. A movement, a shadow that fled from the furthest tower to the one right next to him so quickly it was gone again before he could do anything but freeze in his tracks, breath catching in his throat. The gaze of unseen watchers grew so heavy he itched to brush it away like cobwebs from his skin.

"Someone watches," he murmured. _It feels like a trap_ , he did not add. He looked back towards Loki and Steve, but they were nowhere to be seen. 

"You're still in the clear," Tony reassured him.

"It's me," Jane said. "I'm watching your back. Literally." Then, more seriously: "There's no one else down there as far as we can see."

He smiled to himself at the warmth in her voice. "I hope you're right." There was no retreating, in any case.

He followed Tony's directions to the edge of the dome. It curved away above him in a vast arch of brilliance, shimmering with rainbows, and sang with power beneath his palm when he touched it. His eyes watered from the light burning in a shining horizon, but the glass was cool, not slippery, a slight grittiness as of sand scratching at his fingertips. That light longed to escape, he knew; it was like touching an immense beast, barely tethered and chomping at its bit. 

"You're standing in the only slice that's not in view of anything," Tony said. "Just go straight up. Not over the top or the big one on the other side will catch you."

Thor whirled Mjolnir, its faint whistle buried beneath the buzz of the dome. 

"Tony! Jane!" His voice rose to a shout of its own accord. "Your part is done. Get out of range of the beam!"

He could not see them, but Jane's voice was slightly out of breath when she said, "Remember to get out of range yourself! We'll be waiting for you at the edge."

He stayed his hand a few minutes longer and then chose a place to strike. Partway up the curve, so the light would surge up and away from the ground. He retreated, placing his feet into his own tracks in the snow, until he had enough space to build up momentum. Then he hurled Mjolnir in an arc that carried him along with it and as they flew he called on the full extent of its power; not the power of the storm, but of the hammer itself, its weight and heft and strength that no mortal could bring to bear, nor most immortals - 

The power roared through his fist and he brought it down on the shining glass with all the might in his body. He heard the splintering, felt it, saw it for an instant: an array of dark cracks flitting across the surface of the light. His feet landed on the vibrating surface even as it gave way beneath them, but he was gone already, hurtling back away from the dome as sheets of radiance split apart the crumbling glass. 

A beam of Bifrost energy thundered from the hole he had made. It transfixed the starry sky like a spear, all that precious captive light dissipating second by second, the bridge spending itself into nowhere. The color and sound of it were familiar, the way it raised the hairs on his arms, but this was no neat, precise column under the tight control of Asgardian skill and sorcery. Sparks and whips of light sprang from it, snapping through the air and the forest of mirrors. Lightning crackled between the bridge and the mirrors, branching into a web of luminous filaments. 

He twisted nearly double in mid-flight to evade a spark of rainbow light. The change in direction sapped his momentum; he had to wrench at Mjolnir's handle with all his strength to stay within the blind spot. He hit the ground on his knees, metal scraping the stone. He looked up to find a snarling tumbleweed of light rushing directly at him.

He lurched to his feet, tried to shout; but the little device in his ear had gone silent, its magic extinguished by the dome's power. Before he could even raise Mjolnir, the light was upon him - but before it could touch him, Steve darted past his shoulder into its path. 

Steve flipped his shield and thrust the silver side at the ball of light. It hit the shallow bowl with an impact that drove him back against Thor and both of them nearly to their knees. Thor heard the other man's wordless shout as they ducked. The shield held; light glanced off, reflecting back toward the dome whence it had come.

"Thor!" he heard Loki call behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder to find his brother pointing at the sky. He and Steve must have followed the path marked out by his footprints. 

"Thor, the lightning!" Loki shouted again.

He looked up. Through the brightness burning in his eyes, he saw a red and green figure shooting towards them. Tony had seen him in trouble and come back to help, still carrying Jane. They had not counted on the net of lightning that had sprung up between the dome and its towers. 

As Thor watched, Tony dodged two bolts in quick succession, but they were numerous and unpredictable. A third caught him in the chest and _stuck_ , driving him back through the air as it buried untold amounts of power in him. Thor saw his grip loosen, and Jane fell, arms flailing to grab at nothing, current sparking from her armor. 

He was flying before he knew it. He caught her halfway to the ground, already sick with the certainty that it was too late: mortals did not normally survive lightning strikes. But she was warm, she breathed, her eyes were open and alive and terrified. Her hair floated as if she was underwater. 

He should not have been surprised that Loki had made his armor impervious to lightning. 

He had no time to feel anything, not relief for Jane or urgency for Tony. The lightning flashed at them again. He called it and it obeyed, unruly and reluctant, rushing to cling to Mjolnir - not just the one bolt, but _all_ of it, a skein of threads tangling around the hammer. The force of it propelled them away from the dome and toward the ground. 

He wrestled with Mjolnir, trying to extinguish the lightning, dodge the errant shards of the Bifrost light, and hold on to Jane all at once. Everything seemed to move with sluggish and exaggerated import. He saw Steve running along the ground, saw a spark of light careen into him. Steve vanished, and the light struck a mirror and rebounded, skittering off into the distance. He saw Loki leap to the top of one of the smaller towers, then to the next one, following them from below - to help or to harm, he did not know.

Loki caught up with them just as they struck the ground near the edge of the open space. One last leap sent him crashing into them, trying to change their path, but it was too late: all three of them landed directly in front of one of the four largest mirrors.

Thor found himself on hands and knees, Mjolnir on the ground next to him. He grasped it automatically. The lightning was gone, absorbed by the hammer, its handle warm in his hand. He looked up into the mirror. 

Through delicate traceries of frost he saw the three of them reflected, slightly muddy and distorted in the irregular surface. Himself, windblown and panting - his cape had become tangled around one arm - and next to him Jane, white-faced, clutching as if for reassurance at the teleporter around her neck, and on her other side Loki, staring into the mirror as if it was ten times more deadly than the frost giants, the lightning, the last of the Bifrost light flickering away into the sky. 

There was a fourth figure behind them in the glass. It crept into view like a body floating up to the surface of a pond, materializing out of darkness, indistinct but growing clearer with each passing second. It was shaped like a man, but malproportioned, its shoulders too broad and head too large and ponderous. That heavy head turned from side to side as if searching, and where its eyes should have been were two glittering pinpricks of light. But it was the object that sat on its chest that drew Thor's attention: an unassuming, simple box that glowed with a hypnotic blue light. He knew it beyond any doubt. The Tesseract. 

As he thought the word, the figure's head turned and the gleams in its eye sockets fixed on him. He could see now the curve of a mouth, a curve of a ferocious smile as the thing looked and _saw_ him. It was a smile of recognition that froze the air in his lungs solid so that he could not breathe or feel anything but terror and a shameful desire to hide from those empty eyes.

He whirled, hammer in hand. 

"What," Jane said, voice cracking with the same fear that had seized him, "what, _who is that_?" She had spun with him. Her hand clenched on his arm. 

There was nothing behind them. 

"No, no," Loki gasped, "no no _run go now!_ "

He pushed them, hard, and Thor found himself running without protest, eager feet slowing only to avoid leaving Jane behind. They fled from the watcher in the mirror, out of the open space around the dome, through the skeleton of the Chitauri beast, and it was only the prospect of running straight into a city of jotuns that brought them up short before they plunged into the streets. They darted into the lee of one of the poorly kept halls near the dome. The last of the Bifrost light had burned away, leaving the night even darker than before. The projecting eaves veiled them in comforting deep shadows.

Loki slumped against the wall. "He's seen you," he said. "He's seen you both." His eyes darted from place to place as if he was expecting an attack any second. 

"Who was that?" Jane whispered. 

"The Tesseract," Thor said, straining to keep his voice low. The walls looked thick, but there was smoke rising from the house's roof; someone must be inside. "He had the Tesseract." The theft of the cube was where this had all begun and now at last he had seen the thief. But he could make nothing of that vision in the mirror; he only knew in his marrow that there was death in the creature's smile. 

"The Tesseract can open a portal anywhere," Loki said urgently, frantically. "We have to go. _Now_."

"We cannot leave Tony and the Captain!" Thor snapped. 

"They're dead, Thor," Loki said. "You were a fool to become attached to - " He faltered in mid-sentence, words for once seeming to evade him. 

"No, not dead," Thor shot back. "You underestimate them again." The lightning would not have harmed Tony, at least. He must still be here, perhaps not even far away. As for Steve - his heart clenched like a fist at the memory of the Captain vanishing into nothing, but it was no certainty that the light had killed him. There was hope yet. 

"Then we will be before we find them!" Loki said. He glared at both of them. "You should have taken my offer. None of this would have happened. If only you would - " He did not quite have the audacity to say _trust me._

The sharp cry of a horn sang out from the city. A distant rumble of voices rose as it faded away. The alarm had been raised and the hunters were afoot. 

Thor smelled smoke on the air, more than a kitchen fire could account for. He peered out of the shadow of the eaves, around the corner of the house. A red light glowed in a distant quarter of Gastropnir, as if a bed of coals lay among the buildings. The lightning had found a target. Somewhere in this city of snow and stone, something was burning. And somewhere between the fire and the giants and the watcher in the mirror were Tony and Steve and the way back to Earth.


	18. Leaps and Bounds

"We go back for them," Thor said.

As he turned back to where they had last seen Tony and Steve, the mirrors came alive, flashing with light. Not the rainbow-white of the Bifrost or the red glow of fire, but blue, a cold and diffuse blue that reflected from one silver surface to the next: the blue of the Tesseract. Its wielder had opened a portal. His heart sank.

"He's here," Loki said behind him. Jane gave a startled yelp and Thor spun to see Loki, Jane gripped against his side, kick off the wall and snag the overhanging roof with his free hand. He swung them both over the edge and out of sight. 

Thor hurled himself after them, but the certainty of failure already opened a pit in his stomach. Loki would not need a doorway if he only had to transport himself and Jane, they would be gone in less than an instant - 

He found Loki still there, teetering on the ridge of the roof. He had one arm around Jane's waist, pulling her back against his chest; she was struggling in his grip, but her feet kept slipping on the icy stone. He ignored her attempts to escape, his eyes fixed on the blue glow that still illuminated the mirrors down below.

"Loki!" Thor said. His brother could not have picked a worse time. "Think about this." He had let his guard down. There were too many dangers, Tesseract, jotuns, Loki, he could not think quickly enough to try to reason with him now.

But Loki made no move to go. "I need a doorway," he said. 

"What?" Thor said, echoing Jane. She gave a particularly determined wrench and nearly unbalanced Loki so that the two of them wavered, on the verge of tumbling off the ridge. 

"Are you trying to break your neck?" Loki snapped, regaining his equilibrium. She grabbed at him, her hands passing right through the illusion of his armor to clutch at his clothing. "A doorway, Thor, unless you want to leave Mjolnir behind!"

"What?" Jane said again, not struggling any more. She shot Thor a confused look, but he had no more insight than she. He slid a foot up the roof, searching for a clear angle in case he had to throw the hammer. 

Loki was staring past him. He could not help turning to look. 

From the roof he had a better view of the city. Gastropnir was organizing for the defense. The streets roiled with people running in twos and threes that became rank and file as they neared the empty space in the city center. Horns blared and shrieked over shouts of _attack_ and _wake for your lives_. The first ranks formed in minutes. Torchbearers carried long iron poles topped with flame and a few pikemen formed defensive lines in front of them as they advanced toward the portal. Thor could not see it from his vantage point, but the jotun warriors were approaching it with hesitation, almost trepidation. Unusual for frost giants. The blue glow of the Tesseract that had so transfixed Loki suffused them like a gentle mist.

"We have no time," Loki said. 

He slid down the other side of the roof and leaped brazenly across the street below. The jotuns gathered there did not look up. Thor bit down on his frustration. He hoped Loki had not dropped the shroud of invisibility that had hid them so far. He charged after - the jump was easy, the next roof only slightly higher. He caught a glimpse of the light of Jane's teleporter and ran after it along the awkward angle of the roof - they were on a long, narrow hall, steeply peaked - to the end of the building. Loki had paused at the edge, looking back as if to make sure Thor still followed. He jumped to the next roof the moment he saw that it was so. 

"Loki!" Thor called in a hoarse whisper. The frost giants might hear if he shouted. The wind blew the scent of smoke into his face. Loki was leading him into the denser parts of the city where the fire burned.

The next building was almost a citadel: four round storage silos connected by wings with large windows paned in ice. The courtyard in the middle housed one of the gray animals the jotuns rode, pacing and stamping. His leap took him to one of the silos - almost he missed the top, but one hand was enough to pull himself up. He caught sight of Loki running along the roof of the closest wing, pulling Jane behind him by the hand. Thor jumped to the lower level to follow, but his feet faltered. 

A clamor was rising behind. He could no longer see the remains of the bridge, only the tops of the four tallest towers. Yet unmistakable sounds of battle rose from that place. A crash like something immense tipping to the ground; shouts and screams that grew in number and discord. Had the Tesseract's master brought an army with him? He could not tell if the voices were anything other than jotun, but it would take a formidable force to cause so much consternation among the frost giants. 

When he turned back to the roof, he could no longer see Loki and Jane. He sprang forward in the direction they'd been running, cursing himself. On the next silo he hesitated. Straight ahead onto a thick square house with a heavy, pointed roof? Or to the right, to a sprawling jumble of chimneys on multiple levels? He strained his eyes for a flicker of Jane's teleporter. Let her still be out there. Let her not be out of his reach. The rooftops were harsh, empty hills in every direction. 

The chimneys provided more cover, he decided.

The street below was wide. He landed heavily, inadvertently letting Mjolnir thud against the stone. He looked back over his shoulder to find that a frost giant had stopped and was staring up with a confused expression on his face. Staring _through_ him, he realized with relief. He was still hidden from sight. He retreated carefully, step by step, striving not to make a noise. This roof had been swept poorly and the heavy blankets of snow crunched beneath his feet. He winced at each step. The jotun was still staring as if it could force the darkness to give up its secrets by sheer effort of will. 

Suddenly a massive drift of snow crashed from the eaves of the house across the street. The jotun jumped and spun around, then shook himself and ran on to where the battle was raging. Thor let out a long breath and looked around him. There were five or six chimneys, thicker and taller than a man, their long black shadows sharp on the white snow. 

He had a suspicion that pile of snow had not happened to fall of its own accord. Hope kindled in his breast. He damped it to a low light and set his mind to the problem.

He crouched and placed Mjolnir's head on the white sparkling crust, thinking of summer winds and warm rains, willing the hammer to think of them too. The snow around it began to melt away, leaving a clear patch, the stone of the roof below warm and slightly damp. He lay low in the hollow he had made and studied the chimneys. One on the far side of the building stood close to the street, on a lower section of roof. The snowdrift that had fallen would have been visible from there.

He sent heat spiraling out of Mjolnir ahead of him. A path melted its way in silence across the roof. This time his footsteps made no sound. His ears caught the soft rustle of clothing as he drew closer and he smiled in the dark. Someone was hiding behind the chimney. He gathered himself to move swiftly. One leap and he was in the air; his foot touched on the top of the chimney and he dropped straight down on the other side, catching his quarry by surprise.

Jane whirled to face him, one of the daggers Loki liked to conjure rising in her hand. She was alone. 

"Thank God," she said, relaxing. "I thought you were a frost giant!"

"Are you well?" Thor said, scanning the roof for Loki. It looked deserted. 

She nodded and only then did he let himself breathe easy. He could not account for the fact that Loki had not absconded with her. The ember of hope glowed and he growled at it inwardly. There was no time to let his guard down, not here, not now. 

"He said he went to make sure you didn't fall on a frost giant. Did you see what's happening? It sounds like a massacre down there."

"No," he said. He flattened himself against the chimney and she joined him. They peered around the corner towards the battle. The top of one of the tall towers had broken off. "Something is amiss here, Jane," he said. 

"Did that... thing come after us?"

He repressed a shudder at the memory of those searching eyes. "Us? I'd wager it came after my brother." Who had not reappeared. His frustration was giving way to worry despite himself. Curse the man; had _he_ fallen onto a frost giant? "Where is he?" 

Jane shook her head, hair brushing across his armor. "He was acting even stranger than normal. He wouldn't leave you behind, though."

He looked down at her. "I thought so." Yet Loki had been more than eager to leave him behind when they were on Earth. It troubled him.

"I think the fight is coming our way," Jane said, still staring out past the chimney. The sounds were indeed drawing nearer, and the blue light with them. A tall steeple collapsed as if of its own accord, crumpling inward too quickly and suddenly to seem natural. Thor shifted uneasily.

"I'm not sure anything has ever scared me so much," Jane said in a low voice. An anxious crease lingered between her brows. 

"Its eyes froze my marrow," he agreed softly. "I felt it _knew_ me."

She mustered a shaky smile. "At least it's not just me. And I thought frost giants were scary!"

Something was nagging at his mind. The Tesseract and frost giants and Loki... "We must go back for Tony and Steve," he murmured, distracted. 

Jane nodded, though she looked slightly ill at the notion. 

A sharp crack stopped him from continuing. A square of stone was rising on the roof next to the path he'd melted. A trapdoor. 

"Someone must have heard me when I landed," he said, stepping away from the chimney. Where was Loki?

He grabbed Jane around the waist and leaped the narrow alley to the neighboring building. It was low and flat, cleared of snow and ice. Two shovels still lay at the edge of the roof. Thor dashed across it without stopping. 

A red glow lit the houses from below. Further up the street, a line of blackness snaked across the paving stones, burning in near silence as no fire of wood ever could. Some kind of pitch, he guessed. The black thread oozed slowly along the ground, carrying the fire on its back, but no one was trying to put it out. They were too busy with the attack. Fighting - that thing. But even while running towards the battle or fleeing away from it, they skirted the flames. Loki must have headed this way knowing there would be fewer people about. 

He landed on a steep roof, pointed and slippery. The houses here were cheek by jowl, so close together he was not sure they were not all one complex. The alleys between were so narrow they looked almost too small for giants to fit through. All had pointed roofs, some butting up against each other, and the ridges were covered with iron friezes stamped with designs of animals and geometric forms and twisting figures. 

He and Jane lay flat on the other side of the ridge and peered back the way they had come. Shapes moved about two buildings back, but they too were looking towards the center. The blue light flashed, rising in intensity, then dropping abruptly. An entire building collapsed from the inside out with a dull roar audible even at this distance. The horns blew and blew with growing desperation.

"It's coming closer," Thor said. "More quickly, too."

"We need to get out of here." Jane shivered beside him. "If we can't find them, maybe we can make them find us. Can you send a signal?"

"Lightning?" If he called the lightning, everyone for miles around would see it. Everyone including the wielder of the Tesseract - but surely he would not know what it meant. 

The longer he waited, the longer all of them would be in danger. He could not allow that simply because he feared meeting the Tesseract's master face to face. Besides, not all of him feared. Part of him wanted to look upon the one who had dared strike at Asgard. Maybe if he could wrest the Tesseract from him... 

"Don't even think it, Thor," Loki said from behind them. 

Thor and Jane jumped. Loki was crouching on the ridge of the next building. He had dropped the illusion of wearing armor and looked absurdly out of place in human garments. But he appeared unharmed. He slid down the roof, one foot bracing his descent. A five foot gap separated them. 

"What took you so long?" Jane said.

"The people here have fled from the fire. We can find an unwatched doorway easily."

"Not without the others," Thor said. 

Loki's jaw tightened. "Haven't you seen enough? What about _that_ ," - he pointed towards the battle - "makes you eager to stay?"

"Some of us remember loyalty."

"I haven't left you, have I?" Loki said, sounding stung. His angry gaze met Thor's. No, Loki had not left him, but he could not help but wonder if there was some secret design behind that, too. Twists within twists and ploys within ploys.

"You can't leave without us and we won't leave without Steve and Tony," Jane said. "So the quicker you help us find them, the quicker we'll be gone."

Loki's hands clenched. "Your leash grows ever tighter, Jane," he said. "Beware you don't hang us both with it." He jumped across the gap. A tendril of fire had oozed into the alley below; his passing disturbed the thin smoke curling up to the sky. He leaped up to the ridge between them. The flashes of blue that flickered from between the buildings appeared to absorb him. Anger slipped from his face like a mask. He seemed not to notice. "There is nothing I can do," he said. "What's lost is lost."

"Try this," Jane said. She took the small black communication device out of her ear and held it up to him. "The Bifrost energy shorted out the earpieces, but they were still tuned to the same frequency. If magic is just another way of doing science, maybe you can use this to pinpoint the other earpieces and their locations. Or repower them."

Loki knelt and took the device from her, trying and not quite succeeding at looking disdainful. "I'm just as likely to burn this to ash," he said. He turned it over and over in his fingers, but he hardly seemed to see what he was doing. His mouth was set in a grim line and his eyes strayed back to the flashes that illuminated the city. They reflected the light like an animal's. 

Thor vaulted onto the ridge next to him. "You know him," he said. "The usurper in Asgard. He traveled here because he saw you in the mirror."

Loki froze, staring at him. His eyes were wide and opaque, almost dazed. He didn't speak.

"Who is he?" Thor's thoughts whirred so that he could hardly hear the horns and screams rending the air. "The theft of the Tesseract was no mere opportunism. Not a chance enemy of yours. You knew - " He stopped, his thoughts outpacing his words. Could it all have been planned from the beginning? Had the entire invasion of Earth been a _feint_? If Loki had meant to lose, meant to be captured because he had known they - and the Tesseract - would be vulnerable during transport, vulnerable enough to let someone snatch it and go - he shied away from that line of thought, grasping at objections. Why would you run from an ally? Or was that, too, merely pretense? And why such convolutions when Loki had held the Tesseract in his grasp? It hadn't taken an army to steal it. He could not make the pieces fit together. 

Loki was shaking his head, opening his mouth. His hand closed on the little communication device. 

A head-splitting shriek pounded into Thor's ear. He clawed at it blindly. His fingers found the earpiece he had forgotten was there and he tore it out, hurling it away. It bounced down the roof and into the fire, still wailing. 

It took him a moment to come back to himself. His head was ringing with pain. He had slipped halfway down the roof. Loki was beside him, looking just as shaken. He must have had one of the things still in his ear, too.

Thor became aware of Jane asking if he was all right. If both of them were. She was crouched on the ridge, one hand extended down towards him. He shook his head to clear it. He was well, he meant to tell her. 

A trapdoor opened in the roof across from them and three jotuns climbed out.

He saw Jane and Loki freeze. For a moment he had no idea what to do. The blood pounded in his ear. The jotuns were looking right at him. Right at him. They seemed uncertain, tense as wild cats about to spring. _Right at him._ No, right through him, a calm part of his mind said. They were still invisible. 

Which no doubt appeared very strange, for he and Loki were sliding slowly down the roof, leaving plain trails in the snow. 

Sound and speed returned to the world in a rush. Someone staggered by in the street, roaring, "Reinforcements! Quickly! _He is killing everyone!_ " Thor's head whipped around. The blue light was closer - much too close, only half as distant as the last time he'd looked. Screams and crashes overwhelmed the ringing that lingered in his ear. Jane's hand closed on his arm - she had jumped down after them - and Loki burst into hysterical laughter. 

His shoulders shook as he doubled over, nearly dragging them all down off the edge. Thor and Jane both stared at him. Jane's mouth hung open. Her other hand had hold of his coat. "Shut up," she said weakly. 

Loki shook his head and laughed harder, burying his head in the crook of his elbow to stifle the sound. He seemed unable to stop. 

One of the jotuns jumped over the gap, slashing with a blade that grew out of its arm. The sharp edge grazed over Thor's pauldron and Jane's breastplate before slicing a long gash across Loki's chest. His laughter cut off into sudden silence. 

The jotun's eyes opened wide in shock and Thor knew Loki must have lost control of his invisibility spell. 

" _Asgardians_?" the giant said, more surprised than angry.

Thor pushed off the edge of the roof and barreled into him, carrying them both across the gap again. Smoke stung his eyes. He landed on top and rolled away instantly. Their touch was death. 

He stood balancing dangerously on the slippery stone. The three frost giants towered over him, two men and a woman. He had to keep their attention on him, away from Jane and Loki.

"Thor Odinson?" said the one who had attacked, disbelieving. 

"I answer to that name," he said, and threw his hammer. 

It slammed into the giant across from him. The jotun hurtled backward - but caught the edge of the opposite roof with his fingertips. Thor had time to see Jane, foolish Jane slash at those fingers with her dagger before the two on his side were upon him. 

He danced away. Further up the roof, away from Jane and Loki. He held his hand out without looking and Mjolnir flew back to it swifter than thought. He swung at the blow that was descending on him and metal met ice with a force that made both of them rebound. The second jotun sprang at him. He leaped onto the ridge - now they were of equal height - and swung again with all his force. The hammer connected with her chin. He had no time to see if it was a killing blow before a spike of ice slammed into him. Jotun ice that felt like steel. Pain blossomed in his shoulder - the dart had found the weak spot at the joint of his armor. The force of it sent him flying.

As he fell backward, he saw the first jotun still struggling to his feet in pursuit. He cast Mjolnir behind him in the direction of his fall and the hammer carried him to the next building. He landed in a crash of blood and stone and snow. He tore the dart out with a grunt; it was barbed. The giant who had shot it leaped onto the ridge he had just left. 

The building he had landed on was taller. He clambered to its peak as his pursuer hurdled over the gap between the houses. From here he could see the first roof. Jane and Loki were still there, he saw with relief, on either end of the ridge. The third jotun crouched between them, looking from one to the other with blood streaming down his chest. Behind them the blue light still flickered, ominously close. 

His own jotun stopped on the roof below him. They were eye to eye. The giant panted, watching him warily. 

"So it is you Thanos has come for," the jotun said. "Plague of an Asgardian! How did you come here? Midgard has no Bifrost."

Thor nearly lost his balance. "Thanos?" he said. The name had a strange and foreign ring. There was no doubt whom it belonged to. 

"However you traveled here, you've brought him down on us," the jotun said. "You cause suffering everywhere in the Nine Realms with your stupidity, Thor Odinson. But Asgardians were never renowned for their cleverness."

"What do you mean, I brought him?" He was too shocked to rise to the taunt. _Were?_

The giant stared at him as if he was mad. "You're fortunate we found you before he did. Either means death for you, but our way is better. Kinder." He smiled fiercely. 

Even as the giant spoke, he was shifting his weight in small stealthy movements. Preparing to pounce. Behind him Thor saw the female one cresting the ridge of the next building. Not a killing blow, then. Two of them, wounded and angry. 

"No, don't kill him," the woman called, looking for a moment more fearful than hostile. "If we give them up, Thanos will go away. Otherwise he might stay and take his revenge on us."

"It galls me to give up a victory such as this to _him,_ " the first one growled.

Two of them and Thor already bleeding. He could have fought them, but not quickly enough. There was still the third, and no telling whether Loki and Jane would be able to overcome him. 

He raised Mjolnir to the sky. The hair on his arms prickled. He saw Loki, a knife in either hand and blood down his front, turn his head; saw his lips form the word "no" though he could not hear the shout. 

The jotun struck. Lightning burned through Thor's fist, blindingly bright and lively with death. Never deadly to him. It leached color out of the world in a split second of silver and black disorientation. He held primordial power in his hand like a sword and drove it downwards, hard at his enemy's chest. The lightning leaped forward eagerly, searing through skin and bone and flesh, searing away the heart. 

The touch lasted the briefest instant, but it was enough. Life faded from the giant's eyes as he fell away into the wild, smoking darkness, a black hole charred through his chest. Thor stood alone on the rooftop. 

The second one faltered, but one could not fault the jotun people for lack of courage. She jumped over the gap and paced along the roof, keeping a careful eye on him. She would be ready to dodge lightning now if he gave any sign of calling more. 

"I have no quarrel with you," he said. No time to quarrel. "Go and I will not stop you."

"You think I'll crawl away after you slaughter one of my own?" she said. "And if Thanos has come after you, he will not depart without the prize." Blades slid from her arms and she stalked closer with savage grace - and stopped in mid-stride, eyes focusing on something behind him. 

A blast of light hurtled past him and struck her in the shoulder. She fell, rolling over and over, into the space beyond the roof. 

Thor twisted. Tony hovered behind him, his hands still raised. 

"I saw the bat signal," he said. "I'm glad it wasn't me on the receiving end this time." His armor was battered, but he sounded cheerful. 

"Tony," Thor said.

"Tony!" Jane echoed. She and Loki had climbed to the ridge of the neighboring roof. There was no sign of the third jotun. Relief flooded him at the sight of them. 

"Have you seen the Captain?" he said. 

"Looks like he's seen you," Tony said, pointing down into the city. 

The battle had come to them. The streets were crowded with frost giants. They no longer held a line. Instead they had broken up into single fighters and small groups, taking turns dashing into the fray and back out again, but staying behind every scrap of cover available. Only jotuns and no sign of any other army. Houses blocked the view - he could not see this creature, this _Thanos_ \- but the light was there, rising and falling in surges. A bolt of blue flared and slammed into the side of a house, shearing off its corner. A group of jotuns scattered and reformed - 

Thor's eyes narrowed. He jumped to the next roof alongside Loki and Jane; Tony followed. A group of jotuns and one human. Steve Rogers was in the melee. Not fighting against the frost giants, but apparently fighting with them. Another bolt slashed across the street. Steve stepped directly between it and one of the jotuns and his shield sent it shooting up into the sky. An appreciative shout rose up from the giants around him.

Yet still they retreated. The one they called Thanos was driving them back. 

"No more time," Loki said. Now that he was close to them, Thor could see that Jane was favoring her right arm. Loki clung to her like a shadow, looking haggard and wild-eyed. 

"Very well," Thor said. "We need a way out."

"Down in the alley," Loki said.

"I'll cover Rogers until he's clear," Tony said. 

"We'll meet you down below!" Thor slipped an arm around Jane's waist and leaped down into the smoke. They landed on something dark and smooth, not burning. A moment later Loki dropped down next to them. The flames were not high, but smoke choked the narrow space. It was darker down here. 

"Are we standing on...?" Jane said.

One of the jotuns they had killed. "Don't look down," Thor advised. 

"I think this is corpse desecration!"

"There!" Loki pointed at a door in one of the houses. He picked his way down the alley, skirting flaming puddles of pitch. He placed a hand against the door. 

Steve appeared in the entrance to the alley. 

"Captain!" Thor called. Steve vaulted over the fires to his side. Tony alighted next to them. 

"Good idea with the lightning," Steve said. He was breathing hard. Dirt and blood coated the side of his face in a long streak down to his shoulder. "But I think you got someone else's attention, too."

"You saw him?"

"Where were you? What happened to you?" Jane said at the same time. 

Steve hesitated. "Him? It? I don't know what it... for future reference, doctor, Einstein-Rosen distortions don't tear you apart, they transport you. Not very far in this case. I saw him open the portal." He shook his head. "They're getting slaughtered out there! We're leaving them to a bloodbath." 

"Maybe we should - " Thor said, and stopped. He had no reason to feel sympathy for the jotuns. He had just killed one, after all. Only he thought he might feel sympathy for anyone out in that battle. 

"No!" Loki said. "There's nothing you can do except die."

"He's right," Steve said with a tinge of bitterness. "We have to go. Loki's right."

"Never thought I'd hear anyone say that," Tony muttered. But he offered no protest. 

They threaded their way through flame and smoke to Loki's side. He pushed open the door. 

There was nothing behind it except the inside of the house, dark and cold. No other world. 

"What's the matter?" Jane said.

"This would be the moment for a getaway," Tony said.

Loki snapped the door shut, waited for a moment, then opened it again. A vision of a grand hall with colored glass windows and a huge dry fountain at its center filled the door frame. Then it flickered and reverted to the dark room. 

"What's wrong?" Steve said. 

Thor knew. Bringing them here and keeping them invisible had strained Loki's magic to its limits. He didn't have enough to take them home again. The others did not know him well enough, but Thor could detect the tell-tale whiteness around the corners of his mouth, the way his fingers twitched. A sudden disorientation gripped him. He had seen Loki frown that way so many times, running from danger, on the brink of catastrophe, but always conjuring some scrap of strength when it was needed. 

"I told you," Loki said with ghastly calm. "Five was too many. Somebody stays behind."

Blue light crept into the alleyway. Five heads turned towards the entrance. The fight had nearly reached them. 

"Don't be an idiot," Jane breathed. "I'll go ahead." She tugged on the chain that held her teleporter. "You can follow me. You did it before. That way you won't be far."

"No!" Loki said. 

"It's the only way. Now you only have to transport four."

The light was growing. "Go, Jane!" Thor said. He hefted Mjolnir. He could give a good account of himself. For Asgard. Even if this Thanos killed them, they might take him with them. Jane could escape. And if that meant Loki went after her - at least two of them would live. At least somebody would make it back alive. 

"I'll only be one step ahead. We'll be in the same room almost the whole time. Trust me."

"If you go too quickly," Loki said, "I will have to leave them behind."

"Then I won't go too quickly."

"Quick actually sounds good right about now," Tony said. "I hate to sound pushy, but _do it._ "

Jane and Loki exchanged one last look. She pressed the green button on her teleporter, stepped backward, and vanished.

The blue light outshone the fire now. A silhouette darkened the entrance to the alley. A heavy, malproportioned silhouette, the Tesseract sitting like a jewel on its chest. One huge hand enveloped it, fingers digging in as if they wanted to burrow into that light that beat like a heart. The screams had fallen silent. The air was dry as dust in Thor's throat. 

Loki pushed open the door. The sunlit hall looked like a dream, but it stayed, solid and real. Jane stood at the far end, poised to move. 

The alley filled with blue light behind them as they fled.


	19. Three Wise Maidens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all had a lovely Halloween, if you live somewhere that celebrates it! Thank you as always for reading and for your comments.

They came home to a New York ringing with the sounds of gunfire and explosions. 

"Oh, no," Jane groaned. Loki slumped back against the frame of the door they'd crossed through, eyes glassy with exhaustion. They were all the worse for wear, everyone wounded except Tony. The deep puncture in Thor's shoulder burned, but he thought Steve and Loki had taken the heaviest damage. None of them were in any shape for more fighting.

It seemed the universe had decided not to take that into account. Late afternoon sunshine fell on snow that had been churned to gray slush under feet and wheels. Helicopters thudded overhead, swarming numerous as insects. Thor could see the top of Stark Tower jutting up not far away. A heavy, spiraling storm cloud hung over it, blocking the sunlight. They were standing before the front door of a police station; the street before them was empty and no one was about, so they must be in the evacuated quarter of the city. The sounds were not far distant.

Tony swore under his breath in his flat, metallic voice. "Not the welcome home party I was hoping for."

"You were expecting champagne?" Steve said.

Thor was in no mood to waste more time with jotuns. He kept a guarded eye on Loki. He had questions for his brother. Many questions. He _would_ know the truth about Thanos before another day was done. 

"Who is fighting?" he said. "I thought your Council had an agreement with the jotuns."

The humans said nothing, but gave each other uneasy looks. Loki muttered something disparaging about bargains with frost giants. Someone must have attacked anyway, Thor supposed. Which side? The frost giants, contemptuous enough of mortals to strike them down on the way to Stark Tower? Or the humans, discovering enough backbone to stand up to an invading army after all? The result was the same either way. 

Two helicopters beat the air overhead, speeding above them towards the fray. As the thrum of their blades faded, a roar rose to meet them in the distance. A roar of anger exceedingly familiar to him.

"Is that what I think it is?" Steve said.

The Hulk was out. They had tasked Banner with guarding their backs while they were away. That meant the Tower itself must be under attack. 

"Looks like we've got both a Hulk and an army this time," Tony said. "I'm starting to feel sorry for the Blue Man Group."

"I don't think we..." Steve trailed off. He was squinting towards the Tower. He eyes must have been keen indeed; Thor could make out helicopters circling the building, but not what they were doing. "I think the military's attacking Stark Tower," Steve finished.

Tony jerked. "Like hell they are." He blasted off and shot after the helicopters in a flash that left the snow melting where he'd stood.

"Stark!" Steve called after him. He waved a hand to the rest of them. "Come on!"

They ran through the streets, bright, precise, and crystalline after the dark weathered grandeur of Gastropnir. Sometimes the way was blocked by barricades and cordons watched by nervous black-clad soldiers. They avoided these, not knowing whether the army would give battle. Stark Tower loomed closer as they wound a path through the maze of streets until they found a place where a barricade had been crushed and torn apart. There before them was the Tower, beleaguered. 

Human and jotun fighters dotted the ground around the building, but most of the activity was happening up in the air. Frost giants scaled the walls. At first Thor could not tell why, until one jotun ventured too close to the doors on the ground floor and a bolt of light blasted from a depression hidden in the wall, knocking the attacker across the street. It looked exactly like the energy Tony's repulsors fired. More of the repulsor cannons boomed from above near the helicopter pad, but their firing angle didn't cover the giants climbing the walls. 

None of the jotuns had yet made it to the top of the building. Pepper must be up there, and the others, operating the cannons, but it was the Hulk who was fighting off the attack. He swung and leaped along the smooth side of the Tower with an agility that belied his size and power. Bellows of rage shivered through the air every time a jotun tried to grapple with him or one of the hovering helicopters peppered him with ineffectual bullets.

Thor could see Tony darting about high at the top of the spire, trying to knock off the boldest climbers, and sometimes the helicopters fired on him, too. They fought the giants and the Hulk without bias, casting ropes with hooks to drag them off the building while soldiers inside or on the ground fired bullets and explosives. It was a pandemonium, the very confrontation Thor had hoped they could avoid. People were dying because of him and Loki.

Jane was bent over double, hands on her knees. "I can't - run another - step," she said between gulping breaths.

"They've seen us," Steve said. 

They had indeed been noticed. Soldiers and jotuns were shouting and gesturing, and small groups of each broke off to confront the new arrivals. The two hosts, human and jotun, stood between them and the relative safety of the Tower. A few of the helicopters veered away and came to hang ominously above them. The wind raised by their blades whipped everyone's hair into streamers. The four of them drew closer together. 

"It's us they want in the first place," Loki said. "What now, soldier? Your plan has brought us nothing."

"Now we hold them off. If you want to be helpful, keep your eyes on the Tower."

It was a measure of Loki's exhaustion that he said nothing churlish in reply. 

"We can strengthen their defenses if we get in," Thor said. "Jane, there's no need to wait for us." He wasn't sure if Loki could manage to jump anywhere in his present state, but Jane at least could escape.

She hesitated. "Maybe we can stop this somehow."

A gleam of reflected light drew his attention. Three streaks of silver flashed towards them from the Tower: two Chitauri fliers and something else, a suit of flying armor like Tony's, but unadorned and massive. Despite its bulk it outpaced the fliers and the advancing groups of jotuns and humans and landed before them. Its faceplate flicked down to reveal James Rhodes, looking grim. 

"Captain America?" he said. "I hope you understand how many people you've pissed off. They're going to be thrilled when they realize they're raiding an empty nest." He trained one of the guns built into his arm on Loki, but did not fire. 

"Would you turn one of your guys over?" Steve asked. "You backed us into a corner."

"Whose side are you on?" Thor said, one hand raised in what he hoped was a peaceable manner. 

"That's the question, isn't it?" Rhodes said.

"You're Tony's friend. I would not like to fight you."

"Likewise." Rhodes assessed them all with a quick look. "Tell Tony and your people to stand down and we'll work this out."

"You'll have to tell that to the Hulk," Steve said. 

Helicopters, soldiers, and jotuns were all closing in. 

"For god's sake, man," Rhodes said. "This doesn't have to get any - "

The two Chitauri fliers reached them, hurtling past in a gust of wind. Thor caught a glimpse of Natasha on one, Erik on the other. Erik grabbed Jane and pulled her onto his flier. Steve vaulted behind Natasha. They banked and sped back towards the Tower without pause. 

So much for parley. "Inside!" Thor shouted to Loki. Foes were already closing in on the two fliers. He hurled Mjolnir after them. Gloom fell over him as he passed into the shadow of the clouds. He rose up between the two fliers, ready to repel anyone who assailed them from the sides. 

"What happened?" he shouted through the rushing wind.

"They attacked during the day!" Natasha screamed. "Some of the soldiers got involved. Things got complicated. The Hulk doesn't like complicated!"

Helicopters were coming from the Tower to cut them off on the way to the landing pad. Some followed behind as well. One crept into sight on the left, narrowly keeping pace.

Thor blinked. Loki was sitting on one of the helicopter's skids. He must have jumped on when it was lower. The pilot saw Thor staring and followed his gaze, then visibly jerked when he spotted his unexpected passenger. Loki raised a hand in a nonchalant greeting, then reached into the underside of the machine and tore something out. The helicopter began to list, losing altitude. Loki threw himself into the air and caught the skid of another trailing just beyond the first. Thor saw him grin before a third helicopter rising on the right claimed his attention.

Thor switched direction, a tricky maneuver that required a twist in mid-air. Mjolnir struck the flying machine a glancing blow - he had no desire to kill its occupants - and he used its surface to kick off back the way he'd come. The helicopter spun in furious circles, spiraling downwards as he left it behind. 

The surface of the Tower loomed large ahead. Jotun faces leaped into focus; he caught a blur of green. The Hulk was charging down the shining side of the building with impossible speed. How could something so bulky move so _quickly_? He hoped Banner had enough control to recognize them as friends; Natasha's brief explanation hadn't elaborated on that point. 

"Up!" he shouted. He re-aimed Mjolnir. If he could clear a path through the remaining helicopters above them, the way would be open. He shot upwards; Loki and the Hulk should be enough to cover the fliers. 

His expectations encountered an obstacle when the Hulk pried two of the frost giants off the building and threw them bodily at the helicopters. One of which still carried Loki. The machine lurched, overwhelmed in a ferocious bundle of arms and legs, and began to go down. Thor saw Rhodes' silver armor shoot towards it, hastening to save its pilot, no doubt. Loki jumped clear, but there were no other helicopters within reach. 

Thor yanked at Mjolnir's handle, struggling to reverse direction. He flew in a narrow arc, silver steel, black clouds, blue giants, green Hulk flashing across his vision. Too slow! They were a long way up.

Loki made a grab for Erik and Jane's flier. Jane leaned nearly far enough to fall off, straining for his hand, but Erik, no friend to Loki, had already yanked the machine back reflexively at the sight of his former tormentor. Loki's fingers clutched futilely at the slick metal and slid off. Thor glimpsed the shocked outrage on his face as he fell. 

Mjolnir drove downwards in a scream of wind, but he'd been too far away. Loki hit the ground with a painful _crack_. Fractures split the pavement around him. Thor reached him moments later, but he was already climbing to his feet, wavering slightly. His face was white with rage.

"Selvig!" he spat. " _Selvig_!"

He took one step and disappeared. 

"Loki, wait!" Thor called to no one. He threw Mjolnir and hurtled back up, up to where Erik and Jane and Steve and Natasha were fleeing into the Tower, dodging helicopters the Hulk was bringing down around them. There had been murder in Loki's eyes.

When he reached the top, he circled the building, scattering one helicopter that opened fire on him. He saw Jane and Erik run into the command center, their flier abandoned on the landing pad. Steve and Natasha were following, and Pepper and Clint Barton waited inside, but there was no sign of Loki. He made another circuit and was on the verge of flying back down to ground level - perhaps Loki hadn't had enough strength left to jump to the top - when he found his quarry. Not where he had expected him.

He alighted on the floor Tony had given to him and Jane, below the command level. The fighting must have extended up here at some point; glass littered the floor beneath his feet and every piece of furniture was overturned, broken, smashed. Bullet holes marred the wall in a long, splintered line. A cacophony of screams and explosions and thudding helicopter blades rose and fell outside. 

Loki knelt in the pile of debris that had been the table. Computer equipment and Jane's notes lay scattered around him. He held something in his hands. It seemed to absorb all his attention. Tremors ran through him; it must have taken the last of his magic to get here. He did not look up at Thor's arrival. 

Thor edged closer, peering at the object. He recognized it. It was one of Erik's books, the same one that had reminded him of Mother's sagas only the night before. The cover read _Norse Mythology in Prose and Poetry._

"What are you doing?" he shouted. 

Loki said something he didn't hear. He crept closer and touched his brother's shoulder gently, warily, memories of steel and snakebite holding him back. 

"There's no time for this," he said. The battle outside called to him. They were fighting because of him, because of _them_ ; the blame for all that chaos lay at their feet. He itched to go, but something in Loki's demeanor held him fast. His brother's fingers gripped the book hard enough to wrinkle and tear its pages. 

"Fate," Loki said softly in a silence between bursts of gunfire. He convulsed once with soundless laughter. "We think we manipulate it. How the Norns mock us." He raised his head, but his eyes looked through Thor. "So I was right."

An irrational foreboding prickled Thor's skin. "Speak sense, Loki! What about a book of stories dismays you so?"

"This is no book of stories. It's a book of prophecy."

"Prophecy?" Thor said, bewildered. Had Loki's mind truly snapped? He prayed it was not so. "It's no prophecy, Loki. I've paged through it myself - they are but echoes and imaginings of people long dead. Tales of serpents circling Midgard and worlds created from the flesh and blood of giants. They're ridiculous, fanciful."

"No, Thor. They're true. Look." Loki wobbled to his feet and held out the book. 

Thor hesitated. An unreasonable desire not to look crept over him. They had more important things to do. An explosion outside sent tremors through the building. But that dead undercurrent in Loki's voice - not calm but _numb_ \- made him look down at the page. He read the passage there:

_And they took his entrails and bound Loki with them; and those bonds were turned to iron. Then Skadi took a venomous serpent and fastened it up over him so that the venom should drip from the serpent into his face. There he lies in bonds till Ragnarok._

"You see?" A feverish light glittered in Loki's eyes.

"That's," Thor began. He looked at the text again. The words sank in only slowly. "It could be - "

"Coincidence? Chance?"

That flat tone made him want to argue. "Even if this were prophecy, that is over and too late to change, bitterly though I rue it. We have no time to puzzle over it. Save the scholarship for after the battle, Loki." 

Even as he spoke, a sliver of doubt lodged in his mind. That final word danced before his eyes: Ragnarok. He had not heard it before, yet it whispered to him. It was not in the tongue Jane spoke, but the old one humans had used when last he'd visited Earth. He understood its meaning as easily as any mortal speech. The end of the gods. 

He read the passage over again. It was so particular; it referred to Loki and Skadi by name. How could that be chance? Yet humans had no magic and so no prophecy. There must be another explanation, he told himself.

"Too late to change," Loki echoed, turning the pages urgently. He stopped. "You are right at the worst possible moment." He stared fixedly at the spot he'd landed on.

Gently, Thor slid the book from his grasp until he could read the text. It was in verse this time:

_A ship sails from the east_  
 _bearing giants over the sea_  
 _and Loki is its captain._  
 _The giants are coming_  
 _and Loki is with them_  
 _on that voyage._

"They followed me here," Loki said as if he were speaking to someone else. A helicopter whirled by outside, its turbulence obscuring his next words. "... from Jotunheim to Midgard." Thor caught the end of the sentence as the machine flew on.

"I see nothing about Jotunheim or Earth here," Thor protested. "You're jumping at shadows. Do you intend to stand here while the jotuns come for us?"

But as he started to close the book, a word caught his eye, the word that stood out on the paper as if inscribed in letters of flame. Despite himself, he read the verse. From the corner of his eye he saw Loki's head bend to read with him. The lines gripped him, and the battle seemed to vanish so that the two of them stood alone, in silence, only them and those terrible words.

_I know much wisdom,_  
 _I see deep in the future,_  
 _all the way to Ragnarok,_  
 _an ill day for the gods._

_Dead men_  
 _are filled with life,_  
 _the home of the gods_  
 _reddens with gore,_  
 _the sun shines black_  
 _through the summers thereafter,_  
 _weather never cheerful._

_Brothers will fight one another_  
 _and slay one another,_  
 _cousins will break peace_  
 _with one another,_  
 _it will be an age of adultery,_  
 _an age of the axe, an age of the sword,_  
 _an age of storms and wolves,_  
 _shields will be cloven -_  
 _Have you learned enough yet, All-Father?_

He read of calamity befalling Asgard, verse after verse about the destruction of the gods - _Aesir_ , the speaker called them - each one ending with the same mocking question. _Have you learned enough yet, All-Father?_ He saw himself invoked by name, _Thor the mighty_ , and his own death foretold. He read of the doom of Odin and Frigga and all their people, slain one by one. The words fettered him and in his mind's eye he saw Asgard burn, flames reaching to the sky and stars tumbling out of the heavens and the sea swallowing the earth. And the blame for all of it, the prophet said, lay at the feet of Loki, son of Laufey: bringer of Ragnarok.

He dropped the book. The Hulk howled outside; guns thundered and burst somewhere close by. Loki started. The vagueness vanished from his eyes and he recoiled, but Thor seized him by the shoulders.

"Is this some trick?" he demanded. Let it be a trick. He would rather it be a lie, as abhorrent and painful a lie as Loki had ever invented, than believe in any truth to these words. It must be a ruse to manipulate him, though he could not imagine how. 

Loki tried to pull out of his grasp, nearly tripping over a chair leg, but Thor did not let go. He slid his hands up to Loki's face, refusing to let him look away. "If ever you considered me a brother," he said, "if ever you held any love for me, speak to me truly now. This is too cruel a jest. _What does it mean_?"

Loki closed his eyes. When he opened them, they shone with tears. Something in them crumbled. The last time Loki had looked at him like that, he'd ended up with a dagger in his side. No dagger came now. Loki's hands flew up to clasp his wrists. 

"You must understand," he said in a ragged and desperate voice. "I never meant for him to have it. I intended to keep it for myself." He looked tired, thin and strained and ground to the bone. 

"Who? What?"

" _Thanos._ The Tesseract!"

" _What_?" That wasn't an answer he'd been expecting. "Thanos? Whom we escaped on Jotunheim? The one they say rules Asgard?" What did Thanos have to do with this book?

"Thanos doesn't rule," Loki said. "He kills. Only that and nothing else."

"I don't understand." Or maybe he did. How many months since they'd been cast back down to Earth? How many months of silence from Asgard, no Bifrost, no dark energy, no dreams, not even ravens? He'd thought Asgard might be under siege or hostile rule, but what if that silence meant something else? He refused to follow those questions to their conclusion. Too late to change it, Loki had said. He could not possibly be implying that. 

"These verses don't speak of any Thanos," he said. 

Loki's fingers tightened on his wrists. "He's a man who kills every living thing that crosses his path! It's a prophecy that says everyone dies. Surely even you can see the connection!"

"Why would anyone do such a thing?" Thor argued. "Kill every living thing? We are no enemy of his! Who is he?"

"A mad god," Loki said breathlessly. Words poured out of him, hoarse and rasping as if he'd been holding them back so long they had rusted. "A creature from the blackness between the stars, they say. Or some world unimaginably distant. He has traveled so long and so far that no one knows." He gave a choking laugh. "He believes death is a woman. He tries to win her favor by giving her gifts. Victims. But she won't have him; no matter how many he kills, no matter whom he challenges, he cannot die. He's more than immortal, he is _endless_. And so he seeks out the greatest powers in the universe to pit himself against. He hopes that someday one of them might kill him."

Thor's mind reeled. It sounded like a tale told to frighten children at night. "Impossible," he said. He grasped at one stone in the avalanche of words. "Death is a realm, not a person. Everyone knows that."

Loki laughed again. "I invite you to tell him that."

Thor tried to imagine it. That monstrous figure he'd seen on Jotunheim, who had driven back the frost giants so easily. He heard a scream echoing in his mind, a jotun shouting _he is killing everyone._ For a brief moment he wavered and panic breathed down his neck. Mother and Father, Hogun and Fandral and Volstagg, Sif - 

A vast emptiness seemed to open at his back, a universe suddenly stripped of warmth and meaning. He had never considered that they could be _gone_. That he might never see them again. Asgard was eternal. He'd never been alone, had lived his entire life surrounded by family and friends, retainers and servants. Even when they were far away, the knowledge that home was there had sustained and strengthened him. He'd been sure that all he had loved, all he had been, lived on, even if it was out of sight. 

He was meant to be their prince, a leader and protector. He had never imagined that he could fail so badly, that some dark _thing_ could slip home while his eyes looked elsewhere and blot out that warmth, that strength.

"Do you understand now?" Loki said. "Do you see? There's no sense going home. We've missed the end of the world, brother. There's no one else left."

"You're lying," Thor said. He wrestled with the emptiness, casting hot defiance at it. "You told me once before that Father was dead and it was a lie. What do you hope to gain this time?"

"You think I would lie about _this_?"

"I think you would lie about anything," Thor whispered. Loki might sneer at him for a fool, but he wasn't blind to what his brother was capable of.

But even as he spoke, a storm of memories whirled in his mind. Pieces fell into place; things he had not understood possessed a sudden, dazzling clarity. Knives flashing through the air, each one carefully missing him. A warning, _don't stay in New York after we've gone._ Loki's refusal to leave him on Jotunheim when he'd had the chance - to leave him at Thanos' mercy. _Be glad that you will never understand_. _You have no idea, Thor._

Strange deeds from a man who had tried to kill him twice. They had seemed senseless and arbitrary, actions without logic or reason. He'd ascribed them merely to Loki's changeable temperament, his incomprehensible, contrary mind. Now he saw the pattern: these were no spontaneous changes of heart. Loki thought they were the only two left alive and even his anger would not reach so far as to kill the last remaining Asgardian. Even his hated, envied, favored brother. He was torn between his desire to flee from Thanos and his unwillingness to see Thor dead - and entangled in the net Jane's oath had woven around him besides. 

It was no lie; Loki believed. 

"You've thought this since you first returned from Jotunheim," Thor said, his voice sounding distant in his own ears. Since Skadi had told him of an enemy in Asgard; he must have guessed immediately who it was and what it meant. "You would have taken Jane and left me here on Earth, never knowing."

"Are you happier now that you know?" Loki demanded. "You could have lived here the rest of your life without finding out. They probably would've built temples to you again. You'd have accepted it eventually. And forgotten her."

Not a lie. If Loki was right, if it was true... He met his brother's eyes and saw his own horror reflected there, horror and a hideous guilt, and knew that for once they were in perfect accord. If it was true, Thanos had been razing Asgard for months. While Thor and Loki lingered on Earth, acting like enemies when they should have been allies. While Loki sat confined in a cell and Thor let S.H.I.E.L.D. prod him with their instruments of torture. While they quarreled for days and weeks and months, and every moment of time had been bought so dear the thought of it made him gasp for air. They should have been the first home to the defense, no matter what else stood in the way. Others had paid the price of their quarrel in blood. If it was true. 

"It's not true," he said. "It cannot be!" He rejected the notion with all his strength. Asgard was not fallen. The All-Father was _not_ dead. His people were not stamped out. The numbing horror receded, leaving his mind clearer to think. Objections sprang to his tongue. 

"No one can simply overwhelm Asgard, Tesseract or no, god or no," he said. "The frost giants may not have been able to withstand him, but they no longer have their Casket of Ancient Winters. Asgard is protected by the All-Father and he has magic every bit as powerful as the Tesseract. What of Gungnir, what of the Warlock's Eye? The Realm Eternal is well-defended."

"Then where are they? Why are they silent? Why does all of Jotunheim speak of Odin's fall? Don't be naive, Thor!"

"The darkest explanation is not the only one. You jump to conclusions because of a book! We don't know what is happening back home and we won't," he concluded, "until you take us there." For that, he decided with finality, was what they must do, without delay. 

"You don't know who you're dealing with. Thanos has no use for subjects or prisoners, only corpses. The prophecy only confirms it."

"Prophecies are but words. They can be misread. I'll believe that Thanos can defeat Father when I see it with my own eyes, and not before."

"Are you a scholar now? Believe what you will," Loki said, "but if we go to Asgard, we will die. You would fall before you walked nine steps."

"Or it's a false prophecy," Thor said. "Mortals have no ability to see the future. And this is addressed to the All-Father, yet he knew nothing of it."

Loki twisted free of his grasp at last, shaking him off like an errant raindrop. "What makes you think he didn't know?"

That stopped Thor up short. "But he - " He paused to think. "He couldn't have. If he'd known, he never would have - " If he'd known Loki would bring about Asgard's destruction, he would never have picked up that abandoned babe on the battlefield, never called it by that name. That would be recklessly foolish. Besides, he wouldn't have kept this knowledge a secret. 

Loki's expression turned ugly. He dashed the tears from his eyes with a shaking hand. "You think so?" he said. "You think he would have killed me, or left me there to die? He's more subtle than that. You were his favorite, you never paid attention to what he was really like. You never had to. What does Odin do when he finds some great weapon that could threaten Asgard? Not destroy it. He takes it home and locks it up safe in his vault where he can keep an eye on it. Use it, if need be. The Casket of Ancient Winters? Surtur's Flame? The Warlock's Eye? Why not Laufey's son, the bringer of Ragnarok?" His voice was thick with rage. And pain. 

"No!" Thor said, startled at that depth of feeling. "It isn't so. He took you for love and for pity." He knew his father better than that, and so did Loki. He didn't understand how his brother could cast everything in such a harsh light and yet make it seem reasonable. 

"It was not for love. He merely feared what I would become. As well he should! The Norns spin their threads for us all. Some of us are born to be heroes, and others so that heroes have someone to fight." He turned his back and staggered towards the door. Thor knew where he was going: up to where Jane waited in the command center. There was nowhere else he could go.

"If you were content with that," Thor shouted after him, "you would not say it with such bitterness!"

"Still trying to save me, brother?" Loki shot a sickly grin over his shoulder. "Are you stubborn enough to deny fate itself?" But his steps quickened as if he was fleeing Thor's words, and the silence he left behind him breathed out sorrow. 

Thor remained staring after him, his thoughts churning. The wound in his shoulder ached, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. A fleeting shower of sleet rattled the empty window frames. Could Loki be right, could any of what he'd just heard be true? Loki was the one who knew Thanos, the one who had studied lore and magic and prophecy. Yet for all his knowledge, he had no wisdom: he'd been wrong about so many things, had failed at so many things. 

Jane's notes whirled like fallen leaves through the air; the pages of the book of prophecy fluttered and turned. Thor crouched to read them. The verses stood out in stark black.

_Three wise maidens_  
 _live there by the well of wisdom_  
 _under Yggdrasill, Odin's gallows._  
 _Urdr is named one: what was._  
 _Another is Verdandi, what is,_  
 _the third is named Skuld, what may be._  
 _They carve men's fates,_  
 _they determine destiny's laws -_

He snapped the book shut. Fate was real - this he knew - but words could be easily twisted. Loki was wrong, he would stake his soul on it. The people of Asgard yet lived, and he was going to save them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prose quotation in this chapter is from the Gylfaginning at the Internet Sacred Texts Archive and the poetry is from Jackson Crawford's translation of the Song of Ragnarok (Völuspá), both with liberal editing and rearranging.


	20. Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for your comments and readership! I'm posting a lot of text today, so some typos and such might have gotten through - let me know if there's anything wrong.

The sky had lightened to ash gray by the time Thor found what he'd been seeking. He motioned to Natasha and she pulled her flier near, red hair streaming just at the edge of his sight. They sped between a few last close-standing houses and landed together before the towering ice walls of the jotun camp. 

The cold that emanated from those walls smote their faces as they looked up and up to the ramparts. Thor shifted restlessly. He saw no one; the stillness of the burnt-out morning was undisturbed. If there were sentries, they kept well hidden and made no move to attack. Just as well. If the giants kept quiet, so could he. He needed time before another clash.

The battle had lasted into the night. Thor would have liked to say they'd driven back the jotuns, but in fact Stark Tower's defenses had nearly been overwhelmed. He'd had no chance to spare a thought for anything but fighting off the next sally, closing breaches where the giants had punched holes through the walls, and hurling attackers off the building to fall hundreds of feet to the ground below. In the chaos of spotlights and energy blasts and moving shadows time had stretched into an eternity of blind confusion. He strove against half-seen enemies and half-understood words, against a bitter foe and a fate more bitter yet. Never in his life had he found it difficult to tell who and when to fight - save when facing his brother - but now every blow felt wasted, every moment squandered. He should be fighting in Asgard, not on Earth.

The jotun army had withdrawn shortly after midnight. He guessed the news from Gastropnir had arrived and the giants now had greater concerns than pursuing vengeance against enemies who were no longer an immediate threat. Calling off the attack had proved easier than calling off the Hulk, however. When the jotuns had abandoned the assault, the Hulk had charged down the Tower after them and into the city, crushing armored vehicles, barricades, and a building or two on the way. Thor and Natasha had followed, but the Hulk was on a rampage and had led them on a chase for hours until his rage finally exhausted itself. 

Now Banner lay in the snow before the jotun walls, sprawled in one of the Hulk's footprints. He was naked, small and somehow collapsed-looking in the mark left by his other self, but the absence of battle wounds belied his apparent vulnerability.

Natasha jumped off the flier and approached with care. 

"Dr. Banner?" she said. 

Banner groaned and pushed himself up to a half-sitting position. A shudder ran through him. He twisted to stare up at Natasha and Thor, then looked around.

"Oh," he said. 

"Rough morning after?" Natasha said.

"Ah." He looked down at himself. "This is the awkward part. Actually... all of it's the awkward part."

Thor took off his cape and handed it to Banner, who wrapped it around himself with a murmur of thanks. Despite his slight shivering and the way he blinked at his surroundings, he seemed alert, clear-eyed and lucid as if he had woken at last from a long dream. Thor sympathized; even after so many hours of fighting, Mjolnir felt light in his hand and his feet were impatient to move. There was much to be done. If only he knew _what_.

"Do you remember anything?" he asked. Natasha grasped Banner's hand and pulled him to his feet. 

"Not a whole lot. I didn't... did I?" Under the brightening sky the signs of destruction around the park were growing visible. 

"You pointed him in the right direction," Natasha said.

"Right." Banner sounded resigned, not pleased. It must be a torment carrying such an uncontrollable destructive force inside oneself, knowing all the while that its actions were your own. It was Banner's rage that fed the Hulk, difficult as that was to believe when faced with this retiring man. 

"We would likely be dead if not for you," Thor said. "You fought off an army almost single-handedly."

"Too bad I couldn't fight them further than Central Park," Banner said. Then, after a heavy pause: "I guess this is what we do now. Fight armies."

"Probably not what you expected when you became a scientist," Natasha said.

"Did you, when you became a spy?"

She shrugged and swung her leg back over the flier. The cold had reddened her cheeks, giving her face a fresh and youthful cast except for her old, old eyes. "You use what you have."

"Some of us would rather not... be used."

He was already dreading the next - incident, Thor realized. It was too much to hope for that they wouldn't need the Hulk again. He gazed up at the blue and white walls, uneven and jagged as frozen waterfalls, and longed to sweep them away. It was Thanos he wanted to fight. He begrudged the jotuns the attention they demanded from him. 

"We lean on you heavily," he said to Banner. "Know that you have my thanks. And that of Asgard." If there was still an Asgard to be thankful.

"Oh," Banner said. "Well... I did get a cape out of it." He tugged at it so the edge swirled in the snow. It was too long for him, reaching to his bare feet. He was flexing his toes on the ground, obviously cold. 

"Need a ride?" Natasha said. 

"I hope you're licensed to fly this thing," Banner said, climbing gingerly onto the flier behind her. 

"Just hold on to your cape, Dr. Banner."

"Bruce, Agent Romanoff. Thor?"

With an effort, he pulled his eyes away from the jotun camp. "Yes?"

"They're not going anywhere."

A gleam of light glanced off the top of the wall. Banner was right. The giants weren't going anywhere without their bridge. He let Mjolnir pull him after Bruce and Natasha and tried, for now, to put the jotuns out of his mind. He needed to talk to Loki.

***

Dawn was warming the sky when he arrived back at the control center. Jane sat on one of the black sofas, books and papers scattered on the floor at her feet. She had doffed Loki's armor and looked even tinier and more fragile in only her human clothes. Words and images hung above the console in front of her. She flicked through them, frowning, one finger tapping with nervous energy on the sofa cushion.

Loki sat with his back against the windows. His eyes were closed. There was no one else in the room and no sign of trouble.

At the sight of them Thor's restlessness flared and a pang shot through his heart. They might be the only family he had left. No, he did not believe that. Still, they seemed suddenly immeasurably precious to him, the brother he was only beginning to understand and this mortal woman he had entangled so deeply in his personal battles. 

"Jane," he said. Loki didn't stir at the sound. He wanted to say something more. To tell her what he had learned, to explain what he must do; to beg her forgiveness that he had made her a part of this. 

She looked up. She appeared no more tired than he felt and he recognized the intensity in her eyes that meant she was focused on a problem.

"This is nuts," she said. She flicked through the floating pictures. An image of a stone carved with a bearded face hung next to two versions of the same text in different languages. One of the volumes on the floor, he realized, was Erik's book. Loki must have told her. He hadn't expected that. He shot a glance at his brother, still unmoving. Perhaps Loki had assumed Thor would tell her anyway.

"There is no way all of this can be true, even if predicting the future were theoretically possible," Jane went on. "Some parts of it are mutually contradictory."

He couldn't repress a small laugh at her determined tone. "Loki?" he inquired.

"Sleeping. Or pretending to. Is Dr. Banner all right?"

"Hopefully resting by now as well." Their respite might be short; it was best to make the most of the time. "Are you well? Your arm?"

She shrugged absently. "Just a strain and a bit of bruising." She pulled up her sleeve to show dark blue marks on her upper arm. "Loki nearly ripped that frost giant's throat out when it happened. Kind of creepy."

Good, he thought darkly. Maybe. It was the blood oath at work. Unless Loki had developed some loyalty to Jane. As he had to Thor, it seemed, when the circumstances grew grim enough. He wished it had been he who had torn that jotun's throat out. He wished he could trust Loki's intentions towards Jane, and towards him, and towards - everything else. He wished he could ask his brother's counsel and rely on the answers. 

Too unquiet to sit, he set down Mjolnir and paced around the cascade of floating images. Loki had so many potential reasons for his actions that Thor wondered if he could keep them straight himself.

"He told you about the prophecy?" he asked.

"Not exactly. He came in here looking like hell and we all thought he was going for Erik. But he didn't do anything, just said a bunch of weird stuff about Erik keeping secrets and being a liar. I thought it was about the fall, but then he called Erik an idiot and said he'd hurt you just as much. I went downstairs to look for you and I found this book instead. Loki followed me, but he wouldn't say a word about it." Her gaze drifted to Loki and she added in an undertone, "He wouldn't close his eyes until the others finally got out of here a few hours ago."

Erik. He'd forgotten that Loki had a fresh grudge now. "I'm sure Erik thought the verses meaningless stories." So had he. So did he. 

"Of course he did," she said, more vehemently. "They _are_ meaningless. Have you looked at this stuff?" She jabbed a finger at a line of text hanging before her. "This says you're going to die of a bite from Jormungand, a serpent that circles the Earth. We may not be as advanced as Asgard, but I'm pretty sure someone would've noticed if there was a big fat snake wrapped around the planet."

He stepped closer to look at the words. Jormungand. It had a forbidding ring to it, like all these ancient names, Fenrir and Nithhoggr and _Ragnarok_. That was only baseless fear speaking, surely. "You're right. It seems impossible."

Yet an idea he did not like tickled at his mind. A serpent below the sea. A serpent that had bitten him. The creature had been made by Loki. A child of... no, the similarity was too tenuous. Besides, he still lived, even though the prophecy was unambiguous about his death.

Jane bounced to her feet next to him. The images fluttered through her fingers. "And then there's the part where giant wolves eat the sun and moon. Do you have giant wolves in Asgard?" She cocked her head at him skeptically.

"We have giant... sea otters," he said, momentarily distracted. It still seemed incredible that the Earth kind were so small and harmless. 

She flashed him a smile. "By the way, you've also got a lot more brothers. Balder, Tyr, some other guys... sound familiar?"

That was definitely not so. The All-Father had no other children. His spirits rose. If that part was wrong, perhaps Ragnarok was not a true fate, either. He was suddenly glad for Jane's incredulity; it was easier to dismiss the prophecy with someone else searching out its flaws with him. 

She went on, conjuring up passages that had no sense at all or were obvious fantasies. She seemed almost more intent on proving the verses false than he was. It took him a few minutes to realize she was babbling. That was unlike her. 

"Jane?" he said. "Is something else wrong?"

Her mouth snapped shut in mid-word. He was right. Something definitely troubled her. 

"It's really, really ridiculous," she said. 

"The prophecy? I think you've proved it so."

"Yeah." She bit her lip. "It's just that, I don't want to... Ever since I met you, Thor, it's like my life has become this... story. One of your sagas. Not in a bad way," she said when he started to speak. "Usually, anyway. But it's always been _your_ saga. I'm a scientist, I just observe things. On my own, most of the time. The stuff I do doesn't have life-or-death consequences for anyone." She stopped, looking heart-sick. He realized with shock that the heavy undercurrent in her voice was guilt.

"What do you mean?" he said. "You haven't done anything." 

She shook her head. After a moment she said, low enough that he leaned closer to hear, "That book says Ragnarok starts when Loki is freed from his bonds. Your people die when he's set free."

He understood immediately.

"You had nothing to do with this," he said sharply. 

"I'm the one who let him go."

"You said yourself the verses are false."

"They are." She pressed her fingers to her temples. "They must be. They don't make any sense. So why do I still feel guilty?"

He moved without thinking, reaching out for her. You are blameless, beloved, he wanted to say; blameless in all these matters I've thrust upon you.

"Wishing you'd left me to my fate?" Loki said languidly behind him.

Jane jumped, pulling away, and both of them turned to stare at Loki. His brother gazed up, stony-faced but liquid-eyed, as if some part of him had thawed too much to be hidden away behind frozen walls again. Thor felt inexplicably nervous. 

Loki slid to his feet and leaned back against the windows, watching them. Rust-red blood stained his shirt in a long streak and he had lost his coat somewhere during the night. His cuffs hung loose as if he'd torn off the buttons in a moment of frustration. Some of the strain, the delirium had drained from his eyes; they were lucid and clear as if he, too, had woken from a dream - but wary still, wary and skittish.

"No," Jane said. "That's not what I meant. You don't have a fate, there is no fate."

"Do you imagine you know all the mysteries of the universe?" Loki bit out. "What do you think that trinket around your neck is manipulating, if not fate?"

Thor saw her fold her arms out of the corner of his eye. 

"It's manipulating my personal probability field," she said. "That's not fate. Fate is just a metaphor."

"No. Different words for the same thing."

"Well, fine. You want to play it that way? The very fact that you can manipulate fate shows that it isn't fixed."

" _You_ can only manipulate it in small ways. There are other forces with far more power and as far as you are concerned, yes, the fate they allot you is fixed."

"Oh, right, these Norns or whoever," Jane said, rolling her eyes. "I'm supposed to believe that aliens are secretly controlling my life from a distance?"

"If that's how you wish to put it. Am I not right, Thor?"

Thor repressed a grimace. The last thing he wanted was to encourage Loki's line of thought. But... "It's true," he said. "The Norns are real." He'd been to Nornheim, if not to the World Tree itself.

"What?" Jane said, shooting him a furious look. 

"But that doesn't mean they have anything to do with these verses. Jane tells me they foretell impossible things."

Loki stared at Jane for a moment, then looked out the window towards the sunrise. "How would a mortal know what's possible? That is how prophecies work."

"I may not have a thousand years of experience, but I don't need them for this," she said. "The internal logic of the prophecy itself doesn't hold up. See," she picked up the poor worn book from where it lay on the ground, "where it reads 'dead men are filled with life,' it's saying you're supposed to lead an army of the dead from Hel to Asgard when Ragnarok starts. You haven't done that, so Ragnarok can't have happened." Her voice grew more heated as she turned the pages. "And do you realize how many secret relatives you're supposed to have? Not to mention the pregnancies. Unless there's something you two forgot to mention about Asgardian biology?" She raised her eyebrows at Thor with false innocence. 

Loki waved a dismissive hand. "Obviously the text has been corrupted over time. Humans can hardly be expected to know a true prophecy when they see one - it's no wonder some have presumed to add or remove passages. But the description of the serpent is too precise for you to explain away, Jane. Some parts at least are true, and that means there is a genuine foretelling at its root."

"Not necessarily. Maybe this is where the frost giants got the idea for their revenge in the first place."

Loki's head snapped to stare at her in disbelief. "They - _what_?"

"Well, why not?" Jane said defensively. "I mean, it's not like they can't read, right? And they used to visit Earth and these texts are really old. They live as long as you do, so it wouldn't even be that long ago for one of them."

Thor tried to imagine a jotun cradling a tiny human book in one massive hand, frowning over its contents. The mental image was absurd. Like a... bilgesnipe sitting placidly at a loom. 

Jane gazed at Loki in silent defiance. A message seemed to pass between them. Her jaw tightened and her fingernails dug into her upper arm.

"Not one of your better efforts, Jane," Loki said softly. Despite the words, he sounded less confident than before. 

"Look, it's not any sillier than assuming you've killed everyone because some old poetry says so," she burst out. "Why do you want to believe so badly, anyway? 'Cause if it's fate then it's not your fault?"

"Isn't that why you _don't_ want to believe?"

She didn't reply, but the red spots on her cheeks said Loki had found his mark. Her scar stood out in pale contrast. 

"I've tarnished your human," Loki said, pushing off the window and sauntering towards them. "Now she has blood on her hands. Still find dallying with gods fun, Jane?"

"It hasn't been fun since you sent the Destroyer to my town, Loki. That isn't why I'm here."

"If you won't listen to Jane, then listen to me," Thor said. It was time he made Loki see reason.

Frustration flashed across Loki's face. "You're the one who doesn't listen. I won't take you to Asgard."

Thor amended what he'd been about to say. Trust Loki to know what he was thinking before he could give voice to it. "Then what is your intent?" he said. "To stay here on Earth while our home burns?"

Loki shook his head. "I'll not stay here. Next to Asgard itself, Midgard is the worst place to be."

"Then why are you still here now?"

"If I leave you here, _brother_ , Thanos will pursue you whether I remain or not."

So Loki was still determined to keep him out of Thanos' hands. Thor was not sure why Thanos would seek him out, however. "Because he wishes to test himself against me?" he guessed. That was how Loki had described Thanos' actions. But privately, Thor thought himself a poor opponent compared to the All-Father, not worth challenging if Thanos already had such a powerful force to contend with. 

Loki gave a strange, wry laugh. "Because you remind him of someone."

"Me?" Thor said, surprised. That was not the answer he'd expected. "That's impossible. He has never met me."

"He's met me." Loki began to pace with slow, fretful steps. A shimmer of gold ghosted over him, concealing blood stains and ripped garments in shining illusion. The heavens glowed pink behind him. New York looked deceptively peaceful under its blankets of snow and light, its violence hidden away in shadows and invisible corners. 

Thor considered the words, their implications. Loki had told Thanos about him, told him enough that Thanos somehow felt he _knew_ him. He tried to imagine some far-off stronghold beyond the stars, a fortress on an unknown world - or a ship perhaps - where Thanos dwelt, scouring the universe for gifts for his imagined lover. And Loki there, whispering in his ear all the time Thor had thought him dead. Or perhaps it had been the other way around, and Thanos' whispers had planted the idea of a new kingship in Loki's mind. He would have liked to blame the monster for some of what Loki had done.

"You seem to know him well," he said. "That's where you were. With Thanos."

Loki closed his eyes and opened them again slowly, not ceasing his pacing. "It was a long fall. Full of... dreams. The Bifrost twists time and space. Sometimes my mind was in many places at once. And my body - elsewhere. In one of those places I saw Thanos. He pulled me from the Bifrost's tendrils at a point where the weave of space is thin. He had other followers then, not the Chitauri, and much power and magic. I spoke long of myself. And of Asgard. We had... common goals. We bargained."

Thor remembered the rage that had brought tears to Loki's eyes; he'd taken that rage with him into the abyss. But could Loki have resented Asgard enough to complain of it to a stranger, a mad and dangerous creature from another world? "Of Asgard?" he said. "He questioned you? He... forced you to speak?"

Loki laughed. "So eager to see me tortured, brother?" The barb stung deeply enough to leave Thor wordless, grasping for a reply that didn't sound wretched. "No!" Loki went on. "Asgard cast me out. The throne came to me by right, but Sif and the Warriors Three betrayed me because they favored their friend as king. I turned the Bifrost on Jotunheim to save us from the war you started, but Odin spurned me in the same breath as he welcomed you home. I needed no _convincing_ to speak the truth."

So Thanos knew all about Loki's ill will towards him. He'd leveraged it, no doubt, to make his bargain with Loki. "So you decided to take Earth instead."

"The Tesseract was here. I saw it in the dreams. Its power shines through the fabric of the universe itself."

"You told Thanos of it."

"I said I would retrieve it for him if he gave me an army to conquer this world. I pretended to care only for petty vengeance."

"Yet yesterday you told me you'd never intended to give it to him."

Loki shook his head. "The Tesseract is worth a hundred armies. Only a fool would hold to such a bargain. Especially once I saw how Thanos deals with his allies. They're nearly as short-lived as his enemies. No." He stopped and faced them. "I would have taken the Chitauri, fortified this realm, and turned the Tesseract against Thanos when he came to collect."

"He doesn't sound like the kind of guy who takes well to being double-crossed," Jane said. 

"It makes no difference. With the Tesseract at my command I could have stood against him. And your world would have been safe from him under my rule, Jane. Now all the Nine Realms are at his mercy."

Jane's jaw dropped. "You can't honestly pretend you _care_ about Earth. What about all those people you killed?"

"They were of no consequence," he said with a bite to his voice, fiddling with his loose cuffs. The illusions he'd cast over himself flickered. 

"They were of enough consequence to put an end to your plan," Thor said. 

"That green _thing_ put an end to my plan! And you will all of you rue it when Thanos comes for us. We must leave _now_."

"I have a better idea," Thor said. "We fight him."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Have you heard nothing of what I've said? Thor, you condemn your mortal friends to death if you draw Thanos here after us. Do you _want_ their blood on your conscience?"

"If we run, our position will only grow weaker," Thor argued back just as stubbornly. "We would give up the few allies we have and allow Thanos to tighten his grip on Asgard."

"Asgard is gone, Thor," Loki said softly. 

He tried to mask it, but Thor caught the shadow in his voice. He'd heard it there yesterday, a yawning blackness that threatened to swallow everything it touched: guilt, a profound and writhing guilt - for much as Loki resented Asgard, much as he desired the throne for himself, it had never been his intent to _destroy_ it.

He spoke carefully, feeling his way forward into that blackness. "I need your help, brother."

Loki turned away, staring out across the city as if its deserted streets were of deepest interest to him. 

"I know you did not wish this to happen. Not to Mother. Not to our friends, our city. Will you let this vile creature cow you so? Will you let him take everything that is ours?"

"It's too late," Loki snapped over his shoulder. 

"It's not too late for him to feel the wrath of Odin's sons. What if you're mistaken? What if you need not shoulder the blame for Ragnarok? You could shed that burden. All it would take is one visit."

Loki turned back to them, an animal at bay. "Why do you dissemble? It's not like you. Even if they still lived, they would despise me for bringing Thanos." He might as well have said _father_ in place of _they_.

"Not if you help defeat him," Jane said. "That would prove you only wanted to help Asgard all along."

Thor half-expected Loki to say something caustic about mortals interfering in the affairs of gods, but he merely frowned to himself, staring down at the floor. 

Thor advanced slowly until he could reach out and touch his brother's arm. "You're the only one with the knowledge and power to transport people between realms. I can't do this without you."

Loki looked up at him mutinously. "Supposing you're right - supposing there is something left to save. What would you do? Thanos has the Tesseract, an army, and the defenses of Asgard at his disposal. You couldn't kill him even if he had nothing but his own two hands."

"I would deal with him as we dealt with the frost giants," Thor said firmly. "Strike first and unexpectedly."

"Strike with _what_? Your human friends? He has defeated Asgardians; it would take warriors at least the equal of Asgard's to take his prize away from him again. And in case you'd forgotten, we haven't dealt with the frost giants. We're besieged by two armies as it is." Loki inclined his head in the direction of Central Park. 

Thor groped for words, wrestling with his restlessness and frustration. He was so close. Loki _wanted_ to be convinced. He simply had to persuade him it was possible. Possible to break out of this trap, gather allies with the will and power to stand up to Thanos, devise a plan that could take back Asgard... 

He stood next to his brother and stared out the window at the distant glimmer of the ice walls protecting their enemies' camp. It looked so innocent in the bright dawn, that intractable obstacle keeping him from facing the true problem. He tried to think of what the All-Father would do. Had his father ever been so alone, so cornered, beset with such dangers? Surely the All-Father had overcome even mightier foes in his long life. If only Thor could ask his advice now.

He watched a bird flit from roof to roof below them. Black, but a crow, not a raven; a messenger of death. No doubt more would come as the clashes - and casualties - multiplied. It cocked its head as if it sensed him watching and winged its solitary way towards Central Park. 

The light that burst in his mind outshone by far the sunrise blazing off the ice.

Towards Central Park. Towards the park, where lay an army every bit the equal of Asgard's. An army with no reason at all to love Thanos. 

He found he was laughing. His fingers were pressed against the windows; the glass had cracked under the impact of his hand. What would Father do? What had Father been trying to tell him to do since he was a boy?

A wise king never seeks out war.

"Jarvis," he said, raising his voice. "Please ask Natasha to come up to the command center."

"Thor?" Jane said. "Are you OK? What are you doing?"

He smiled at his companions so brilliantly Jane began to smile back without looking any less confused. 

"You can't think to challenge Thanos and the Chitauri with your ragged band of mortals alone?" Loki said. His eyes bored into Thor, uncomprehending, trying to pull the answers out of him. It was not often that Thor knew something Loki didn't, but he was too elated to revel in it.

"Not alone," he said. "If Thanos has an army, I plan to have two."

The light of understanding dawning in Loki's eyes was more beautiful than the sky outside. Jane gasped aloud and scrabbled through the pages of the book she still held.

"A ship sails from the east / bearing giants over the sea / and Loki is its captain. / The giants are coming / and Loki is with them / on that voyage," she read aloud. 

For a moment none of them spoke. Then Loki said slowly, "Not to Midgard. To Asgard. They follow us to Asgard."

"See?" Jane said. "Maybe we've got fate on our side after all. If you're going to believe in it, you may as well make it work _for_ you." Her grin matched Thor's. 

It took Natasha less than a minute to find them. She looked from one to the other, taking in their expressions. The moment she appeared Loki's bored, haughty demeanor returned and he stared at her as if she was a fly disturbing his rest. She took no notice.

"Something wrong?" she said. "Barton's on the roof and he says nothing's stirring yet."

"You said you have a contact in the World Security Council," Thor said. "They've had words with the jotuns. Can you arrange a meeting for me with representatives from both of them?"

"I can try," she said. "What's this about? I hope you're not planning to turn yourself over." She gave him a disapproving look, as if he was a recalcitrant little brother.

"More like the opposite," he soothed.

"The opposite? What are you doing?"

He looked back over the park, its fortifications shining like beacons in the new day. 

"Building a bridge," he said.


	21. Alliance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep trying to make the chapters shorter and somehow that never happens.

It took longer than Thor hoped to arrange the meeting. Days became a week and the week nearly two before word came. He passed the time waiting impatiently in Stark Tower - and planning. He called upon Steve's knowledge of war and Natasha and Barton's experience of Earth's politics, turning the problem over and over between them. What forces he might gather, how he might transport them. Whom he must convince. What he had to bargain with. He measured the people and powers he had at his disposal against Thanos and his Chitauri and his Tesseract, and frowned, and thought.

Loki made no more attempts to persuade him to leave Earth, but nor did he appear enthusiastic about Thor's plans. He found fault with every assumption and suggestion, forcing Thor to reconsider every aspect of his ideas time and again. When he was not being the thorn in Thor's heel, Loki haunted the Tower, snapping insults at the humans and once coming to blows with Tony. After the first week of tension, Jane ensnared him in one of the laboratories and tried to pry more information about teleportation out of him while Thor listened, dizzied by the theories of science and sorcery they tossed about like idle mead-hall conversation. That dulled the sharp edge of hostility, but Thor suspected that if he'd not been there as a buffer, blood would have been spilled. 

Yet his spirits were not dampened. He had Loki on their side - awkwardly, uncomfortably, chafing and vacillating from mood to mood - but he had Loki. And out of those heated discussions in the expectant halls of Stark Tower he forged a plan.

It was a cloudless night when Natasha and Steve accompanied the three of them out of the Tower. Enough lights remained in the city that only a few stars were visible and the heavens curved in a black velvet dome over their heads, sliced here and there by the thin bright blades of spotlights. Thor's breath fogged in the air. The meeting time was a peace offering to the jotuns; darkness worked in their favor. 

"Ready?" Natasha said. 

"Not sure I'll be of much help," Steve said. 

"My contact asked for you. He thinks the fact that you fought on the giants' side in Jotunheim might win us a few points."

"If you say so." Steve shrugged. "Do these people care about... points, you think?"

"They have a kind of honor," Thor said. "Or at least long memories." He had better start finding things to appreciate about the jotuns if he expected them to be his allies. They had honor, they were good fighters, they brewed strong ale and stronger poetry... he would have to work on this list later.

"Great," Jane grimaced. "I hope they don't take stabbings too seriously."

"Don't worry. I think that will be the least of their objections." Most of their ire would be directed at him and Loki. Still, he thought he could offer them something better than the vengeance they craved. 

"Speaking of objections," Natasha said, turning her cool gaze on Loki. "Stay out of sight. One glimpse of you could sink this whole negotiation." And maybe that's what you want, the warning note in her voice said. 

"I can walk unseen in and out of any stronghold you could imagine, Agent Romanoff," Loki said. He offered her a guileless smile that grew transparent as he faded from view, becoming pale and diffuse as smoke. A feeble star shone at the corner of his lips. One last breath clouded the air; then he was gone and four of them remained to continue on. 

Thor knew he would not stray far, however, and not only to keep an eye on Jane. Having a hidden fighter in reserve was useful in itself, but that was not the only reason he'd agreed that Loki should accompany the party in secret. He hoped his brother would listen well to what was said. 

Spotlights followed them from the tops of neighboring buildings, sending up prickles of light from the snow piled in the streets. They passed through a barricade; the soldiers watched them in silence as Natasha identified them and their task. A few nodded at Steve, but most were guarded, expressionless. 

They proceeded in the direction of the park. At the next barricade they found Nick Fury waiting for them. 

" _You_?" Thor said. Steve and Jane echoed his surprise. Had S.H.I.E.L.D. risen from the ashes so soon? He could believe it - Fury was resourceful - but they had heard nothing of it. "What are you doing here?"

Fury gave Natasha a wry glance. "You keep your secrets well, agent. Is it CIA now? Or is that too obvious? I heard MI6 is a tad short-handed lately."

"I never give up a source. Or an employer. Not even to friends."

"It was you!" Jane blurted. "You're Natasha's source in the World Security Council."

 _Fury_ had agreed to surrender them to the jotuns? Thor shook his head. "You would have betrayed us to the frost giants? After we fought for you?" he said. He'd considered Fury an ally, though perhaps one too willing to get his hands dirty. But not _this_ dirty. 

"You swore to protect Earth from any threat," Fury said. "But you're not the only one with a stake in this planet. Some of us even live here."

"We're not a threat!"

"You were." Fury motioned to a group of men standing by the barricade. One of them, Thor saw, was James Rhodes in his flying silver armor. The rest were soldiers, controlled-looking men in dark clothing, armed to the teeth with compact human weapons. He doubted those would be of much use, but it was more impressive to go to a negotiation with an honor guard.

"Besides," Fury continued, "I figured one of you would think of a way out of this mess if I tipped you off."

"That's a hell of a thing to gamble our lives on," Steve said.

"I don't mean to undervalue your life, Captain Rogers - it's worth a lot to a lot of people - but the safety of the people of this city and this planet comes first. Your friends are waiting for us, Thor."

Thor followed him through the barricade, fuming. Perhaps Fury thought he had given them a chance, but to Thor it felt more like he'd played both sides, ensuring he would win either way. Or rather, that Earth would win. He could not fault the goal, but the Council should have rallied to them from the start. 

"How did you come to hold a position in the World Council?" he said. Did Fury sit on the Council itself? Representing this country, perhaps? But a high-ranking member might not come to a potentially dangerous meeting like this. Somewhere in its hierarchy, then, where he could pull strings without becoming too prominent. 

"In my line of business you get to know things," Fury said. "Things some people wouldn't want the general public to know."

"You blackmailed the Council into giving you a job?" Jane said.

"You think I need blackmail to get a job, Dr. Foster?" Fury said with a sardonic raise of his eyebrows. "By the way, congratulations."

"Congratulations? For what?"

"Your work on probability particles has been nominated for the Nobel Prize in Physics and I have it on good authority that you're likely to win it. The news hasn't been made public yet, of course."

"The _Nobel Prize_?" Jane gasped, pushing ahead to keep stride with Fury. Her mouth hung open. "But I haven't even published anything yet!"

"Looks like someone did it for you. Know anyone who might do that kind of thing?"

A flush had risen to her cheeks. "Tony Stark," she said. "He's - he's - " She floundered for words. 

"I know exactly what you mean," Fury said blandly. 

"Why are you keeping tabs on the Nobel Prize, anyway?"

"I'm not. I'm keeping tabs on you."

"On me? You mean because of - " She glanced back at Thor. He mouthed 'congratulations' at her and she shrugged self-consciously. "Because of Thor?" As a way of getting to Thor, he knew she meant. But it was not the case this time, he thought; she had enough to offer herself to make her an object of interest to Fury. No doubt he'd been watching her since she was first brought to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s flying fortress. Thor was half annoyed at the presumption and half proud that she had proved her work so important. 

"You sell yourself short for a Nobel Prize nominee," Fury said. "You're an asset, doctor, and I hate losing track of an asset."

"An asset?" she spluttered. "To who? You?"

"To Earth," he said, and stopped. 

They had arrived at a crossroads halfway between Stark Tower and Central Park. The buildings to either side looked deserted, still and forlorn in the night. Down the street Thor could see the unmistakable shapes of jotuns, standing in two ranks with their hands behind their backs.

"Not that many," Natasha said. "Maybe they're serious."

"We'll find out," Fury said. 

Rhodes approached and gave Fury a salute. "We've got you covered from above and the sides. We'll be able to get you out if there's any trouble."

The jotuns were unlikely to consider their escort a threat, but in Thor's judgment, he and Loki and Rhodes would be enough to keep them busy while the soldiers escaped with the others if it came down to a fight. Rhodes blasted off into the air at Fury's dismissal. His soldiers fanned out to either side of the street, hugging the buildings in near-invisibility. Thor wondered if Loki was on one of those empty rooftops, or if he stalked the street with the soldiers, laughing to himself at their ignorance. 

The five of them advanced in silence to the crossroads: Fury, Natasha, and Steve for Earth, and Thor and Jane for Asgard. His was a meager delegation, one member not Asgardian at all, and the third, secret one too suspect to even make an appearance - but he would use what he had. 

Three frost giants came to meet them: Thrym, who had often gone on ventures in Utgard or Niflheim and was said to be ambitious for wealth and power. So he had come; they had met before, but long years past. Another Thor knew only by reputation, but there was no mistaking that long bow and the arrows like spears. Skadi looked battered, moving with slow limping strides, but Thor was not surprised that she had survived her clash with Loki or that she'd chosen to join the invasion before she was fully healed. It fit what he'd heard of her. He was doubly glad now that Loki had not come with them openly; that might well have destroyed any chance this meeting had of succeeding. The third jotun was another woman, but he knew nothing of her. 

The two sides sized each other up, the jotuns peering down suspiciously from their superior height. Lights flared to either side of the street; some human art, reddish and sparking like torches, but cold. They made the surfaces brighter and the shadows deeper so that Thor could see his would-be allies more clearly, outlined in shades of charcoal and crimson. 

"I am Thrym," Thrym said finally. "I speak for the giant's moot." He did not smile, and his red eyes glared in sharp contrast to the cool blue of his skin. He would be troublesome; he seemed to sneer even as his expression remained smooth, as if the grimace was ingrained in the contours of his face.

"I am called Dalla," the woman Thor didn't know said. "I speak for the king, Byleistr Farbautison, successor of Laufey." She was more reserved than Thrym, but there was no mistaking the edge of skepticism in her voice. 

"And I am Skadi and I speak for myself," Skadi growled. She fingered her bow, wincing as the movement twinged some half-healed wound hidden under her white fur cloak. "I did not think to see you again, Jane Foster. And with another Odinson. Strange companionship for a mortal."

"I guess when you hang out with one of them, the other one tends to tag along," Jane said with forced lightness. "Um, sorry about the... stabbing."

"You are not sorry, mortal," Skadi said, grinning like a feral cat, "But someday you shall be. I promise you this."

Even in the faint light, he could see Jane's face pale. "Have a care, Skadi," he warned. "If you break the peace here, we will not hold back." The ridges of Mjolnir's handle dug into his palm. He kept an equally firm grip on his temper. 

"I break no peace, but nor will I forget an injury." Still, she subsided into silence, though he misliked the way her eyes smoldered, sparking occasional hot glances at Jane or the obscuring night around them. 

He hastened on with the introductions, though they all knew him by reputation if not from experience. "I am Thor Odinson of Asgard. I speak for my father, Odin the All-Father, and all our people." The humans followed his example with fine ceremony.

"What is the purpose of this meeting?" Thrym demanded almost before Natasha had finished giving her name. "You wish to call a truce _now_? After you destroyed our bridge and assaulted our city?"

"We've done no worse than you," Thor said. "And the attack on Gastropnir was not our doing, as you well know." He hoped the giants didn't consider him to blame for that, or this would be more difficult than foreseen. 

"Ha! You'll find making peace more toilsome than making war, Asgardian."

It was a well-aimed shot, but he refused to rise to the bait. Thrym was merely using the weapons Thor himself had handed him. 

If only he could send a message back to the past and stop his youthful self from leading that foolhardy raid into Jotunheim. How different things might be, he thought, and saw for a moment possibilities branching tree-like from that one decision: how Loki would not have learned of his true heritage, not have fallen into the abyss and come home with Thanos. How Thor himself would never have been banished. Never have met Jane, never have fought his brother... the man he saw in those possibilities hardly seemed like himself. He would be a fool still. 

He hoped he was a fool no longer. "That was a mistake," he said, steadfast in the face of Thrym's mocking smirk. "I come to put it right."

"Much blood has been spilled," Dalla said. While Thrym paced back and forth with short, agitated steps and Skadi leaned heavily on her bow, Dalla looked as immovable as a stone. "Blood in these streets, blood in the streets of Gastropnir. You think you've trapped us by cutting us off from Jotunheim? You leave us no choice but to take Midgard instead. Peace does not serve our purposes."

"You might find 'taking Midgard' harder than you counted on," Fury said. 

The three giants stared down at him as if a dog had reared onto its hind legs and spoken aloud. 

"You think you can stand against us, human?" Thrym said. He sounded more bemused than offended; mortals were too lowly to offer insult. 

"I don't see that you've had much luck taking over our world so far. For that matter, neither has anyone else who's tried."

Thrym snorted. "It was not your weapons that stopped us, but the news from Jotunheim. Only the green one and the Asgardians are worth fighting, and three warriors are small obstacle."

"And will you sit here in your mortal kingdom while Thanos razes Jotunheim?" Thor asked.

All three were silent, staring at him with narrowed eyes. Skadi muttered under her breath. That was encouraging; they were sensible enough of the danger not to dismiss him out of hand.

"You have news of my home," he went on. "You know Thanos has taken Asgard. You know what he did in Gastropnir. Do you imagine he'll be kinder to the rest of your realm?"

"Speak plainly," Thrym said. "What do you propose?"

"It is no truce I seek, but an alliance," Thor said.

Thrym barked a laugh. "An alliance? With you, Odinson, and your army of mortals? What threat do they pose to the lover of death? What do you hope to do? You cannot even travel to Asgard; and now, without our bridge, neither could we."

"We can travel to Asgard," Thor said. He hesitated, but someone would bring up Loki sooner or later. He was at the very heart of this matter. "My brother can travel between realms without a Bifrost, taking a few others with him if need be."

As he expected, the jotuns tensed and their faces grew darker at the mention of Loki, but to his surprise, they did not object. Not yet, anyway. 

"A few people would quickly become a few corpses," Thrym said. "You have some plan, then?"

Thor gathered all his persuasive power, such as it was. His plan was simple in design, but there were a fair few ways it could go wrong - and it depended heavily on Loki. 

"We send a small party to Asgard first to steal the Tesseract from Thanos," he said. "Without it he will lose much of his magic - and once we have it back here, we can use it to open a portal between Earth and Asgard." They still had the machine Erik had built to harness the Tesseract the first time. The mapping system Jane had developed for her teleporter would provide the coordinates for a gateway to Asgard. 

"Ah. And through that portal you expect us to march to Asgard's rescue."

"You and the forces of Earth. Together we will be more than a match for the Chitauri and Thanos." 

"If you can steal it. That will be no easy task. And if you fail, Thanos may retaliate. Our realms united might not be able to defeat him then." Thrym spoke with reluctance, as if the words were being dragged out of him, but Thor did not miss the fact that he seemed well-informed about Thanos' power. A shadow of an idea took shape in his mind. The bones of the Leviathan in Gastropnir - perhaps they were not the remnant of a previous encounter with Loki after all, but of one with Thanos.

"If we fail, we will not be able to open the portal and you will not be called on to fight. Thanos would know nothing of your involvement." 

"You believe you can wield this sorcery?" Dalla said. "It is old and unknown to us." 

"We have the means. The humans here have used it before." That brought considering glances at Fury and his comrades, but they remained tinged with suspicion. 

"And how do we know that you will not simply turn the Tesseract against us as well while we wait behind our walls? Or perhaps after we pass through the portal and fight your battle for you?" Thrym scoffed.

Thor bristled. "I am no traitor, turning on allies like a cur." 

"Yet you harbor one!" Skadi broke in roughly. She stalked forward, bringing a cold breath of air with her. "Where is Loki Lie-smith, Loki Silvertongue, Loki Realm-breaker? I see the coward fears to show his face. You expect us to fight alongside _him_?"

They had arrived at the worst snarl in this tangle of a problem. If he was truthful, he could not deny that he was wary of Loki's role in this himself, though it pained him that he could not drive away his misgivings. All Loki had to do was take him to Asgard and back, but if all went well they would have the Tesseract with them on the return journey, and the way the interest flared in Loki's eyes at the mention of the cube made him hesitant. What was that baleful light? A hunger to destroy Thanos, to be free from his enemy's vengeance and his own guilt - or an ember of ambition? 

He would not show doubt in front of these jotuns, however. Loki had thrown in his lot with them; and besides, no one maligned his family unchallenged. "I will vouch for him," he said, "on my honor." 

At that they laughed, letting their contempt shine forth freely. 

"So we are to fight and die for you, Odinson, and your creeping serpent of a brother?" Thrym said. "For Asgard, which keeps all the Nine Realms under its thumb? Thanos harries us, but Asgard has done the same. I think this likely to be a trap. I think we shall stay here and rule this mortal realm of yours instead."

Fury interrupted their laughter. "Do that and all you're doing is making it easier for Thanos to pick us off one by one."

"You think yourself equal to us?" Thrym said impatiently. "We need no mortal allies."

"Your people didn't mind accepting help from one of ours in Gastropnir." Fury nodded at Steve.

The jotuns scrutinized Steve and the shield he held on his arm.

"Yes, we have heard tell of you and your enchanted shield in the _draumroeda_ ," Dalla said. "They say it withstood Thanos' power. Where did you obtain this object?"

"An old friend gave it to me," Steve said. "A human friend."

"Do you have more such things? Weapons?" Dalla said to Fury. 

"The shield is a one-time kind of deal. But we have other weapons."

The frost giants snorted, their interest beginning to fade already. 

"You are poor bargainers, friends of Odinson," Thrym said. "You offer us nothing but certain death."

Thor steeled himself; it was time to show his last playing piece. He'd hoped he might avoid this, but faintly, with no real conviction. In their position he would have demanded a better price as well. 

"I can offer you something you have desired for a long time," he said.

Thrym turned fiery, calculating eyes on him. "And what, Asgardian, would that be?"

"The Casket of Ancient Winters," Thor said.

As he'd expected, all three of them focused their attention on him instantly. This was the true negotiation; what had come before had been an exchange of information, a mutual testing of intentions and limits, but they would never have truly considered allying with him until he named the payment. But it was a handsome payment: once Jotunheim had been as great as Asgard, and with the Casket it could be so again. 

"The Casket lies in Odin's vault," Dalla said. "Thanos' vault, now."

"Yes. If you fight with me now, I will return it to you when we retake Asgard. Your people and mine have been enemies for longer than I have lived. I've done my part to add fire to our feud. But I bury that enmity now. I speak not of a truce, but of a true alliance, against Thanos and against all other threats to our peoples. Fight with me, take the Casket, and make Jotunheim the equal of Asgard once more."

They exchanged looks, making a pretense of thinking it over, but he saw the gleam in their eyes - a desire so like Loki's. Hope for a different future; embers of ambition.

"Do you agree with this, human?" Thrym said to Fury. "You would swear Midgard to this pact?"

"The name's Nick Fury."

Thrym smiled. "Do you know why the lord of Asgard made war on us and took our Casket, Nick Fury? It was to protect your world. From us. Yet now you seek a compact with us. Have you no hunger for vengeance? Have you no fear?"

Fury ignored the slight mockery in his tone. "I know the greater enemy when I see him. As for fear... we're not primitives any more. Thanos tried to bring his army here first - you may notice it's not _our_ world he's ruling."

Thrym laughed briefly. "It is true. You've shown up the Asgardians." He flashed his unfriendly smile at Thor. "But you come to their aid, even though Thanos has passed you by."

"We've seen what's out there. I've heard the reports about what Thanos did on your world. I think a mutual defense pact is in our interest. I don't intend to sit here until Thanos decides to come back and finish what he started."

"I understand you, Nick Fury. Two guard dogs are better than one. If we bind ourselves to this pact, your little realm will have fine protectors."

"And yours will be great again," Thor cut in. "Don't think you can stand to the side and watch while Thanos destroys Asgard. This was not the first time he raided Jotunheim, was it?"

"No," Dalla said. "He came with a host of ships and beasts that travel among the stars."

So his inkling had been right; the Leviathan had been killed by the jotuns during Thanos' first attack.

Unexpectedly, Dalla had more to say: "We fought him, but he had no mind for battle. He came seeking one he thought to find among us."

Skadi growled. "Loki Laufeyson. We thought it strange that he should hope to find that one on Jotunheim. No one knew then that he was of our blood. But from Thanos we learned of Asgard's fall."

"Then no jotun has been to Asgard in person?" 

They shook their heads, and his heart beat more quickly. They did not know for sure, he thought with relief. No one did. His people might yet live. 

"We know only what he told us," Dalla said. "That he had deposed Odin. That he had the Realm Eternal in the palm of his hand. We would have laughed at his presumption, but he had the power to back such grandiose words."

"Still, we did not bow to him," Skadi said fiercely. "We found the Lie-smith first and punished him ourselves."

Trust the jotuns to see torturing Loki as an act of defiance against Thanos. He swallowed his anger at Skadi's boast. If he wanted them to put past offenses behind them, he would have to do the same, no matter how much it galled. "Then you, too, have good reason to oppose Thanos. If we defeat him now, he cannot do further harm to Jotunheim."

"There remains an obstacle," Dalla said.

"Loki," Thrym said.

" _Loki_ ," Skadi agreed. 

"We need my brother," Thor said firmly. "Our plan rests on his magic." He would not bargain away Loki, not even if the whole scheme came crashing down otherwise. He had been weak once - he'd looked the other way while S.H.I.E.L.D. tried to torture Loki, half telling himself that it would be fruitless anyway and half hoping some secrets might spill from his brother's lips after all - and as if to mock his deliberate blind eye, the jotuns had stolen Loki away from under his nose and subjected him to the cruelest of torments. Not again, never again would he countenance that, not to these people, not to anyone.

"Your plan, yes," Thrym said. "And after Asgard is retaken? After we have the Casket? Our vengeance is not satisfied. The stones of Jotunheim still weep where its children's blood flowed."

"I will not turn over Loki! He is our ally, too, and if we wish his help, we must give him something in return." They knew the rules of alliance; perhaps reason would sway them.

"He has done you harm as well," Skadi protested. "We know he tried to murder you and wrest your inheritance from you. Thanos followed him to Asgard!" She turned to Fury. "He brought the Chitauri here and tried to enslave Midgard. You are content to leave him free?"

Fury hesitated, a calculating look creeping over his face. 

"I will not see him harmed," Thor growled quickly. He wouldn't give Fury a chance to throw his weight into the argument. No doubt he still considered Loki a danger to Earth, and that was the only thing that mattered to him.

"You ask us to fight and die for you," Skadi said, "but shield the greatest killer of our people from us!"

"He is my brother. I will not betray him." He hoped Loki was close enough to hear that. It might give him more confidence in Thor, in the humans, in this whole endeavor. "Know that I will not betray you, either, if you make alliance with me."

"He is not of your blood, but of ours," Thrym said. "The blood you Asgardians have long derided as monstrous and barbarous."

All three of them glared at the words as if Thor was the one who had said them. Ill feeling seethed in the chill night air.

"Words spoken in fear and ignorance," Thor said. "I recant them and all like them. If I ever spoke so, I was wrong, and so was any other Asgardian who has done so."

The tension eased slightly, replaced by a brooding silence. He said nothing more, giving them room to think. Let them grow accustomed to the idea; let them give up on Loki. He'd dangled a fine prize in front of them, surely far more valuable than further vengeance against someone they'd already punished once.

"You are all words, Odinson," Thrym grumbled. "Grand plans and grand promises."

Thor raised his voice, letting it ring through the street. "Have you ever heard it told that Thor Odinson is a liar? An oathbreaker? Who in the Nine Realms has said so? Find one such person and I will withdraw my request for your alliance."

Thrym's mouth twisted. "I have heard no such accusations," he growled.

"Nor I," Skadi said.

"Nor I," Dalla added, "only tales of your arrogance and temper."

"Then believe that I speak truly now. Help me retake Asgard. Help me drive Thanos from the Nine Realms. I will give you back your Casket and defend you against all foes. This I swear upon my father's life."

A long look passed between the three giants. It was a bargain they had much to gain from and that was a powerful oath to bind it.

"Very well," Thrym said at last. "We accept your offer, if you succeed in stealing the Tesseract. Our army in exchange for the Casket of Ancient Winters, and when all is done, no one of our people shall raise a weapon against an Asgardian unless he is attacked first. _But_ ," he added in a voice like iron, "the peace does not extend to Loki Laufeyson. We will leave your people unmolested. Asgard and Midgard are safe from us. But if any of us encounters Loki outside the borders of those two worlds, his life is forfeit."

"And if I am with him then," Thor said. "I will defend him with my own life." He held back a sigh of mingled relief and disappointment. He would have to be satisfied with this, an imperfect peace, born flawed as it was. As long as it held until he could free Asgard, they could deal with the consequences later. 

"So be it. Such are the limits of our peace. But I will have you swear an oath on it that cannot be broken." Thrym drew a dagger from his belt.

"You doubt my word?" Thor said, unable to keep the indignation out of his voice.

Thrym's face was dark in the reddish glow of the torches. "I trust to blood over promises."

Thor eyed the dagger in the jotun's hand. It was large and black, the blade-edge slightly ragged, but it wasn't the metal that worried him. He would have to clasp Thrym's hand to make the oath binding. "Your touch burns."

Thrym smiled and drew the knife along his palm. "You will simply have to bear it, Thor Odinson."

***

"This is madness," Loki said the following day.

"So you've said. It was your idea." And a good one, in Thor's estimation.

They stood at the very edge of the terrace of Stark Tower. The sheer sides of the building fell away beneath their feet and the cold breeze that flapped up from below stirred their hair. Loki's shoulders were slightly hunched beneath the illusion of his armor, flickering transparent in the sunlight. Thor wore his as well, but he'd left his cape in Bruce's possession. 

Loki glanced at Thor from the corner of his eye, squinting in the afternoon sun. "It will require restraint."

"I know." Restraint and stealth. But that did not mean he wouldn't do his utmost to find the All-Father and free him if he could. Or Mother. Or... the list grew quickly in his head and he grimaced. Restraint. He could not liberate all of Asgard himself. This was a reconnaissance mission; they were going only to observe. 

"You may not like what we find," Loki said. "They could be..."

"I know." He rubbed the scar across his palm. It had already faded to a white seam, but the skin around it was raw and peeling, burned by the cold of Thrym's hand. What would he do if the worst were true? Would one lifetime be enough to mourn such a loss? Who would he be, a homeless vagabond, no longer prince of Asgard, his name and titles meaningless? Who was Thor Odinson without Odin's Asgard?

But no. He had another home here on Earth. And another name that would stand him in good stead. _Avenger._

He took a deep breath. He had to know; he could not wait any longer. "The sooner we find out, the sooner we can act," he said. 

For a moment they were both silent. Then Loki muttered: "Blood brother to a frost giant. You truly have changed." He eyed the scar disconsolately. 

Thor found it surprisingly easy to laugh. "That's about the only thing that hasn't changed, brother." He turned to go. "Time grows short. We dare not waste any more of it."

"Thor," Loki called after him.

Thor turned back. Loki stood with his hands folded behind him, staring at him with his head half-bowed. The wind that moved his hair didn't touch his illusory cape. 

"What?"

"Why do you keep saying that?"

He tried to remember what he'd said. "Saying what?"

Loki's lips gave the word a sardonic twist when he answered."'Brother.' I'm not. We aren't. Why do you cling to the word?"

He considered the question, caught off guard but somehow sure the answer was important. Why was Loki still brother to him? Why, when there was no blood shared between them; why, when Loki had tried to kill him again and again; why, when even the past was not what he'd believed it to be. Even now he could not quiet the whispers of distrust that flurried through him, and his flesh, with the deep memory of reflex, still cringed at the recollections of the Destroyer cracking his neck, the sides of a glass cage buffeting him as he fell, the sharp lightning-ridden teeth of a metal serpent - but even now he would have fought until his last breath to keep Loki from harm.

He was unpracticed at self-reflection. He tried to imagine his life, _all_ of his life without Loki in it. He grasped at the image that had sprung to his mind the night before, a tree of branching possibilities, trying to see where every potential path led. Without Loki, he would have been - even more reckless, having no one to look after. Less responsible and more spoiled, with no one to compete with for their father's attention. He would have died, probably, several times over. He would have been not the eldest but the _only_ son, with no need to prove himself a worthy heir, no mirror of a younger brother to tell him if he measured up. He could not recognize himself in the pictures his mind drew. Without Loki, he was not Thor, he was someone else: a stranger. With Loki, even a Loki who was his enemy, he knew himself. 

"I _am_ your brother," he said. "For my part. I cannot change myself so much." As for Loki, he might be as turbulent and changeable as the wind, but Thor had never yet met a storm he feared. 

When he went inside, Loki followed without further discussion. His friends were assembled in the command center, Jane among them in her borrowed armor. She stood up from the sofa, her teleporter gleaming bright about her neck. 

"Are we ready?" she said.

"Yes," he said. "Remember, at the first sign of trouble, you - "

"Jump back here, I know." She smiled with strained bravery. "Don't worry about me."

That, he thought ruefully, he could not do. He was pulling her over the edge of the cliff with him. But Loki couldn't leave this realm without her, and so his hand was forced. 

"We'll have no trouble," Loki said smoothly. In front of the mortals he was all swagger and indifference; one would've thought he feared Thanos not at all. "Not even Heimdall's eyes can find me when I don't wish to be seen. No one in Asgard will spy so much as our shadows."

"We'll return soon," Thor said.

"Four hours," Steve said. "After that we'll assume something's gone wrong."

Not that there was anything his friends would be able to do for them in that case. Still, he was more expectant than worried. It had been Loki who'd pointed out that they needed to know more: where Thanos kept the Tesseract, where he spent his days - in the city? in one of his starships? - where he held the prisoners. If there were any prisoners. To plan a theft they needed information, and the only way to get it was reconnaissance. Thor, Loki, and Jane were the smallest group they dared send - Loki to transport them, Jane because she could not be left behind, Thor because they couldn't risk trusting Loki on his own. And because he had to see for himself. This was to be the first in a series of short scouting trips; and while they gathered information, Fury and the humans would organize their forces, jotun and mortal, for the day when it came time to attack. 

Today, though, their task was only to find out what had happened and who still lived in Asgard.

When Loki worked his magic and the elevator doors opened to another world, Thor followed him and Jane through them with only a single look back at the room in Stark Tower. Somehow it no longer looked severe and plain and alien. He felt his friends' eyes watching them - Natasha and Barton searching, Steve stoic, Tony conflicted, Bruce resigned, Pepper worried, Erik unhappy - until they disappeared through the next doorway. 

They passed through a blue-lit tunnel deep beneath an ocean, a stable filled with animals he didn't recognize, a closet hung with an endless variety of coats. They walked from day into night and into day again. He could barely spare a glance for the strange sights they left behind them; with every step a coil seemed to tighten around his chest, constricting his heart until his blood pounded frantically through his veins. He hefted Mjolnir onto his shoulder, letting its solid comfort weigh him down. 

He could not tell if the journey was longer or shorter than the one to Jotunheim. It felt endless; he yearned for every doorway to be the last and the coil contracted every time it was not so. He tried to fill the time with planning. He would need to speak to Thrym again. Perhaps they could accumulate more forces still; others in the Nine Realms must have remarked Thanos' arrival and been dismayed by it. He had friends in Vanaheim. The jotuns could call on their cousins in Muspelheim. His thoughts wandered, straining towards what might lie ahead.

Finally Loki stilled with his hand on a silver latch. They were in an ornate bedroom, windowless but lit by lamps, empty of anyone but themselves. The look Loki shot him told Thor that this was the last door. 

"No one will see us," Loki said. "No one else will hear us even if we speak. Although," he added, "don't take that as a license to prattle."

"We _know_ ," Jane said, barely above a whisper. 

Loki's knuckles were white. Thor steeled himself for whatever might be behind that door: ruined buildings, alien warriors in the streets, dead friends. Dead family. He could hear their breaths rasping in the silence.

Loki opened the door and they slid through, moving in tandem as if they'd practiced for years. 

Warm air swept across Thor's face. It was summer in Asgard. His eyes were filled with light, light glittering off smooth silver and gold surfaces everywhere he looked. It took a moment for him to understand what he was seeing. It was high noon; the sun glared in the sky above his head, pouring sheets of light down onto that brilliant city where he'd been born, his home, a city with no trace of destruction or warfare anywhere to be seen. 

He knew where he was. The palace was but minutes away, shadowless at this time of day. Tears sprang to his eyes at the sight of its bright towers. 

He took a step in its direction. There was no one in the street where they'd arrived. He saw no sign of Chitauri or ships or death or - anyone. 

"Thor," Loki said behind him, dread heavy in his voice.

"It's so..." Quiet, Thor meant to say. 

Between one step and the next, his plans crumbled into dust.

The hammer fell from his hand, far beyond his power to lift. Something essential and vital tore out of his breast; his limbs collapsed, suddenly weak as reeds. The ground slammed into his knees. His armor was so _heavy_ , how could anyone bear such a burden? The sky spun about his head, gold and blue and shining metal swinging and rolling like the deck of a ship, an upside-down ship, no, he was getting confused, there was no ship, he was on land in Asgard and something was _tearing him apart_. His power ripped out of him, his power over storms and then the healing power he rarely used, his strength and his life force and the oath he'd so freshly sworn to Thrym all peeled away by a merciless unseen hand. 

Time jumped and sped up. He could feel it racing like sand slipping through an hourglass, so brief and precious and fleeting. Dimly he heard Loki screaming and Jane shouting _what's wrong, what's happening_ , but the words were unimportant. Thor did not scream, and he had no need to wonder, for he'd felt this pain once before.

_The humans think us immortal. Lover of death. Lover of death. Lover of -_

He was home, and he was mortal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And on to the bag of cats. I really, really hope the next section works!


	22. You Come Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I picked this story up again and finished it for Nanowrimo. Much editing later, here are the remaining chapters!
> 
> Since the plot was written before Guardians of the Galaxy and Thor 2, it doesn't take account developments in those films.
> 
> Content notes will be at the end of the chapter from here on out to avoid spoiling, so scroll down before reading if you want to check on any disturbing content.

Mjolnir's handle tipped. Loki saw the grooves slide through Thor's fingers as the head inscribed a flashing arc through the air and plummeted with a clang to the ground. Thor swayed.

Something was wrong.

He had time to turn and lunge for the door before catastrophe struck him. 

The magic descended on him like a stooping hawk, its talons sinking into his being and wrenching a hot weight out of his chest. He was torn apart. The strength drained from his limbs and his heart – his heart –

His heart skipped, quickened, and drummed to the beat of a foreign time. A fast, frantic meter. His ears were full of silence except for that beat. A sound so strange should not be coming from inside himself.

He found he was staring at his hands on the ground. The street shone bright gold and flawless under them. He'd not seen a thing so unpolluted since – A tremor ran through his fingers. He observed it as if they belonged to someone else. They were ungauntleted, and above them the black, sleek line of a Midgardian garment covered his arm. The illusion of his armor was gone.

It was all gone, he realized. His false armor. The invisibility and silence that had cloaked them. The hard-earned magic that sought out the paths between worlds. And all the rest of it, everything he had labored centuries to acquire: eavesdropping spells and illusions that spoke, thought-whispers that opened locks and pried out guilty secrets. Transfigurations of matter into matter; conjurings of things hidden away. The blood oath that had bound him to Jane. Spilled out like viscera. He was helpless as a child, the weak child everyone had once ridiculed. 

Clever monster. Oh, clever monster. He had underestimated Thanos. _Again._

"What's wrong? What's happening?" A hand grabbed his shoulder and he looked up into Jane Foster's worried face. Her voice sounded normal. How could she be calm? Didn't she see what Thanos had done?

"Death," he croaked. His throat hurt; he realized he had screamed from the shock. "Immortal life offends her most of all." He remembered Thanos saying that to him in the Prime Cluster. Such carelessness, such blatancy. He'd thought nothing of it. What a _fool_ he'd been. 

Jane's lips moved. Her hair glinted as she turned her head to look at Thor, then back at him. He heard nothing, for his mind had stuck fast on a thought.

He had told Thanos about Thor's banishment. Had told him, half-gloating, half-bitter, how Odin had cast Thor out from Asgard. How Thor had become a mortal, unable to wield magic – short-lived and vulnerable to every threat. The creature must have conceived of the idea from that very moment. Asgard had been Thanos' design all along. A handsome gift for his adored Lady Death. And a new name for Thanos to add to his collection of epithets: Ragnarok, end of the gods, end of the world. 

Loki's heart twisted within him. Must every stray word come back to dog his heels? 

Jane had helped Thor to his feet. He was stripping off his breastplate, built for an immortal's strength. Otherwise, he looked... little different. As beautiful and invincible as a god should. Grim, but not afraid. He was scanning the street, alert for threats. As yet they were alone, but the calamity that had befallen them spoke of the presence of him who ruled here. 

Loki was still on his knees. He pushed himself to his feet. He could not kneel while Thor stood; never that. But nor could he pretend to Thor's courage. The seconds of this feeble mortal existence were rushing, rushing away into nothing, and panic's sweaty hand hovered over the back of his neck. If only he were stronger. 

"This is powerful sorcery," Thor said. "Loki, how do you fare?"

He kept a punishing grip on his fear. "I've been better," he said. 

"Can you still teleport?" Jane asked.

He shook his head. "In this... mortal body, I can reach no magic at all, nor use any magical device. And likely neither can anyone else who might come here. The only power that reigns belongs to Thanos."

"Then we have to - " Jane started.

" - hide," Thor finished. "Quickly."

Loki did not reply. No magic. Except... the glamor that concealed his true appearance. His skin was still pale and warm, not the icy blue it ought to be. His companions did not remark on it; they were accustomed to thinking of him as _like them_. But he had brooded too long over this sorcery of Odin's, tried too long and too fruitlessly to claw off Odin's spell, Odin's lie, until he had given up at last, angry but relieved. It seemed even Thanos could not break this illusion.

The thought did not comfort him. On the contrary, it whetted the fear that clawed at his composure. It should not be like this. He did not understand it. He had no time to think until he understood it.

"Hide," he agreed. 

There were in the Street of Vertrnætr. It swept in an elegant, elevated curve over the crisscrossed tapestry of earth and water beneath it, where the sea met the land in a network of inlets and canals. They had come through the door of the silver boathouse; the gold, bronze, and iron ones were dotted further along the path. The sea was at their backs and the palace not far before them, rising spire upon spire to where the sky deepened to black. 

_Home_. It looked just as he remembered it. It had no right to, not after betraying him and casting him out, not after everything he had witnessed since he left here. He had seen the Weird of Maarin and the twin death-birth of a seven-dimensional star. What were Asgard's gaudy towers to that? 

Yet he could not tear his eyes away from Odin's palace; and so he saw the dark specks circling it before Jane and Thor did. Fliers. 

"They know we're here!" he said. "Inside!" 

He whirled. The boathouse. They must get out of sight. 

A Chitauri stood in the doorway they'd just come through. 

He stumbled back. "Run!" he cried. 

Too late. The Chitauri's head swayed like a snake's and the insets on its metallic chest ridges flickered. It was communicating with its Hive – the Sloping Hive, he could see from the colors and patterns. 

He spun again to see the specks speeding straight towards them. They'd heard their brethren's call. 

Thor wasn't running. "Jane, you must go," he said. 

"I can't just leave you here!" 

Two more Chitauri burst out of the door of the bronze boathouse to their right, and another from the gold to their left. They did not advance, but waited, forming ranks at either end of the street to cut off any escape. Beneath its placid beauty, the city was swarming with vermin. 

Loki backed into the middle of the street, Jane and Thor at his side. 

"You promised to go if we met trouble!" he said. One of them at least could live. And Jane shouldn't even be here; she'd only had to come because of him. That stupid oath had put her in more danger than she'd thought she was protecting herself from. 

"One of us must get out, Jane," Thor urged. "To tell the others what has befallen us. Only you can do it now." 

She looked wildly from one of them to the other. 

" _Go!_ " Loki snapped. 

Her mouth firmed with a stubbornness he recognized all too well. "I'll come back," she swore. "I'll bring help somehow. Whatever you do, _don't_ get killed!" 

Her hand lingered for a moment longer on Thor's arm, but she did not hesitate long. Before either of them could bark at her to go again, she stepped away and vanished. 

The sound of the fliers parting the air reached them. He could make out the individual Chitauri on their mounts. Their shapes, then their faces, then the very texture of their half-beetle, half-armor skin jumped into clarity. 

He groped instinctively for some scrap of magic: the faintest invisibility shield, the barest illusion to alter their faces. Anything! He found nothing but a vast impotent emptiness, larger than he was himself. How could so much nothing fit inside him? He was a soap film stretched over an abyss. Any moment he might dissolve into nothing. 

The fliers thundered by. Chitauri leaped from their backs in a serpentine black glitter. Thor _roared_ and hurled himself at the first as if he still had all the strength of a god. They crashed together, chest to chest, and rolled in a rough embrace on the shining street. 

Another leapt at Loki, swinging a bladed staff. He snatched at the broad shaft and grappled with it, but his weak arms gave way and gave way and gave way even more. He was pushed back, struggling against each step. There were more of them coming. He jerked at the staff, trying to pull himself and his opponent out of their path. His wrenching spun them in a mad circle. Twisted nightmare faces fractured and reformed all around him. 

The Chitauri leaned in close. Its tiny eyes blinked from out of grotesque folds. Was that recognition in the creature's face? He could never tell them apart, they all looked the same – did this one know him, did it rage at the compulsion forced upon it by the hive mind, did it blame him for using its people as his tool, did it want revenge? 

_Everyone does_ , a sly voice in his head whispered. 

Insect armor slipped beneath his fingers. Sweat was trickling down his brows and his arms were shaking, shaking. He could not believe the thing had not destroyed him already. Yet he remembered, vaguely, that the Chitauri, too, were mortal – the humans had defeated them, had they not? 

The Chitauri gave a sudden heave and, as if in mockery of this insight, he found himself on the ground, wet blood dripping from his chin. The ringing in his head made it difficult to tell where he was – which way lay the palace, which way lay the sky? – why was it so sunny, so bright – 

Someone shouted, not in fear but in defiance. The fragments of metal and sun and flesh came together to form a picture: Thor, breaking a Chitauri's back across its own mount. It was a picture so ordinary to him that it melted into the memories of a hundred other battles in his mind. Thor always performed the mightiest feats as if they were nothing, and Loki was always watching, reluctant admirer, caught in the midst of some lesser deed. 

He should not be surprised that mortality changed nothing about Thor. Still there stole over him the old familiar awe, and with it, the sting of shame, the bitterness of envy. 

_Idiot._

He snarled. 

A Chitauri struck Thor across the neck with a bladed staff. His brother staggered; Loki surged to his feet and threw himself at the enemy. He would not be less than Thor. He could not cower while Thor fought. Not if it killed him a thousand times and more. 

Once they would have rallied and overcome their enemies and songs would have been sung of the battle. Now the world burst into pieces and a red agony bloomed in the back of his head. 

For some time, all was confused. The mortal seconds that felt so short grew long again. His lids blinked, up-down, up-down, shades of black over the preternaturally blue sky. Metal flashed. The sound of water danced and faded. The world turned over. No, he turned over. He was face down in the dust. Dust? This was Asgard. There was no dust. He lay face down on smooth ground. 

He and Thor lay on the polished gold of the great courtyard before the palace of Asgard. It was empty of all save themselves and the Chitauri who guarded them. This in itself was odd, this emptiness; it made the square look unnatural, a dream facsimile of Asgard. In the center of that immense space a single thin, dark shape thrust towards the sky. It drew the eyes, inexorable, fascinating. 

It was a gallows, and from it hung a corpse so decayed he scarcely recognized it. But even in death, suspended by the neck like a slaughtered animal, a certain grace clung to those limbs – and there was the golden belt, wrought in the shape of apples, resting still on the ghastly jutting hips. It was bright as a newly minted coin. 

Her name stuck in Loki's throat. He tried to swallow it down. 

"Loki," said Thor, sprawled bleeding on the ground at his side. "Loki, tell me my eyes lie – it is not – ?" 

"Idunn," Loki said. His voice sounded cold. The white smile of Thanos flashed through his mind just as he had seen it, oh, so many times. So this was how he had done it. 

You come to a realm where Death holds no sway. Where do you strike? Why, at the root – at Idunn, the keeper of the Asgardian immortality. She would have been the first of them all to die, her magic the first and only bulwark to be attacked. As mortals, the people of Asgard could not wield any of their impressive magic weaponry. The city's defenses lay intact – and useless. Thanos had not had to fight anyone at all. Thanks to Loki, he'd known that it was possible to cut their power off at its source. 

No breeze disturbed the gallows and its victim. The very air seemed unwilling to touch this perverse thing; nature shied away. Loki would wager his soul that the wood came from the trees that had borne the apples of immortality themselves. Some part of him beneath the fear wanted to laugh – not because it was clever, but because it was unsubtle. So _heavy_. Like everything about Thanos. He could feel the heavy hand on his shoulder, the heavy breath in his ear. 

No doubt he would be feeling them again very soon. 

"Loki," Thor said again, in an odder tone. 

Had he smiled? He kept his face still. "It is she," he said. "Death has come to Asgard." 

"Did you know this would happen?" 

He fought again to keep a bloody laugh from escaping. "Do you think I would willingly do this to myself?" 

The tension around Thor's eyes eased slightly. A shadow of disappointment flitted over his face. Anyone else would have missed it, but Loki had made such a study of Thor's face in his life that he could almost read his brother's thoughts. Ah. He ought to have said _to Asgard_ , not _to myself_. How remiss of him. 

"He's going to kill us, Thor," he said. After all the time they'd spent trying to kill each other, it would be Thanos who did the honors. He couldn't decide if it was a better outcome or not. 

"We must think of a way to escape." 

"What do you suggest?" 

Thor surveyed their surroundings. They were not bound, but at least fifty Chitauri stood in ranks around them. More lurked among the columns that melted into the jumble of fluted towers that rose and multiplied and piled upon each other to become the palace. 

"The Chitauri. Can they be bargained with? Do they have a leader?" 

"They have no will of their own. They are ruled by a hive mind under the control of their master. It's impossible for them to disobey him." 

"Can the control be broken?" 

It could. Loki should know. He'd been meant to control a Hive himself, during the invasion of Midgard. Imposing his will on the Chitauri had proven unexpectedly difficult. They had rebelled against it – they had loathed him, in fact – and he had been forced to turn them back over to Thanos, who dominated the entire Cluster with ease. 

"No," he said. It was half-true. _Thanos'_ control could not be broken. 

"There must be something, Loki. You lived with these people. You know them. Think! We need a plan." 

A plan. They were kneeling, bleeding and bruised, before the dead body of a goddess and a small army. They had neither weapons nor allies. They were mortal. His brother looked at him with undaunted eyes and demanded an escape plan. His ignorant brother, who did not know the mad Titan. Who had never heard of Rigel-3 or seen the Annihilation Wave or the betrayal of the Kodabaks. Who did not conceive of the power of the Tesseract in the hands of one who could master it. Who was always too arrogant to know when he was overmatched. 

Thanos was going to kill them. 

Loki ought to gloat. He had been right and Thor had been wrong, as usual. They should never have returned here. The three of them should have left the Nine Realms to Thanos and never looked back. If he'd been smarter himself he would've taken Jane when he had the chance and let Thor live with the consequences of his refusal. He'd been weak, he'd not had the strength of will to leave Thor for Thanos, to turn his back finally on Asgard. And yet he could not gloat. That path had felt unreal even when he'd argued for it. Was not this the inevitable end? Loki and Thor, facing death together. And Thanos taking his due. 

"Let me talk to Thanos," he said, spinning a tale, a half-truth with ease. False hope was better than none, was it not? At least Thor could spend his final moments being his cocksure and defiant self. He could give his brother that much. They were about to die anyway. "We have a certain... understanding. Perhaps I can convince him not to kill us on sight." 

Thor looked doubtful. "That's your plan? _Talking_ to him?" 

"Not heroic enough?" 

Thor snorted. "If anyone can win a battle with words, it's you. Perhaps fortune will smile on us and you'll irritate him to death." 

It was Thor who had named him Silvertongue, after all. And had him muzzled on Midgard. "I know you still don't trust me. But we can't fight our way out of this." 

Thor's gaze darkened. "If it doesn't work, I would rather die fighting than begging for our lives." 

"As would I. If it's any consolation, you'll very likely get your wish." 

"At least we'll go down fighting for Asgard." 

"You're a ray of sunshine to the last, brother." 

Wonder of wonders, Thor chuckled. The movement made blood gush from the gash on his cheek and the sound was more eerie than cheerful in this courtyard full of death. But for a moment it was as if nothing had ever come between them. 

"I wish we had gotten here sooner," Thor said. "We might have warned them." 

If Loki had transported the two of them home as soon as he knew Thanos had stolen the Tesseract. If he had guessed that Thanos meant to come here. If he'd had the foresight, if he'd had a thought left for anything but his own skin. 

"So do I," he said. 

Cold hands seized them. The unforgiving grip of two Chitauri drones hauled Loki to his feet. So much for sentiment. 

He and Thor were dragged forward, past the disintegrating body of Thanos' first victim. The eruption of towers loomed over them; the open doors to the palace yawned, silent all. The long throne room stretched before them, to the throne where death waited. His body rebelled of its own accord, cringing, sagging to become an inert weight. Mortal time was speeding away from him. The antechamber passed in a heartbeat and then the throne room. How could they have arrived already? They were pushed and pulled up the stairs onto the lower dais and thrown to the ground again. 

Loki looked up. The higher dais rose up another flight of stairs before him. Where once had stood a single golden throne, now there were two, identical in every respect, and empty. 

He grew cold and discovered his hands were trembling. Thanos was coming. 

Thanos was there. 

One moment the dais was empty and the next it was crowded. The creature dominating it bore only a casual resemblance to a man. Thanos was tall, taller than Thor by a head, and thick of neck and heavy of brow. His skin was a sickly purple-gray, smooth and hairless like that of an amphibious animal. Around his mouth it puckered in lines of scars that Loki knew not the origin of. He wore remnants of armor – pieces only, dusty and battered as if they had been worn down over centuries without their master taking note or care. His eye sockets were deep and black and in them shone an uncanny light: mad stars, fierce, intelligent, without empathy. 

The Tesseract crouched in a heavy golden setting around Thanos' neck like a jewel in a collar. Its blue pulse sang in Loki's ears, far more softly than it had the last time he'd seen it. The hypnotic pull hardly seemed more than a memory. It was the first time he'd laid eyes on the Tesseract with a mind unclouded by its power. It looked small and strangely flat, but its light danced and writhed undimmed. 

The sight of it sealed Loki's fate. Surely Thanos would kill him now – he must know that Loki had tried to master the Tesseract himself instead of turning her over as they had agreed. She would have told him. No one had a talent for killing like Thanos did, and Loki had tried to step into his path to power. _If the Tesseract is kept from us..._

Thanos' eyes settled on him. Loki froze like a rabbit in the path of the snake. 

Thanos stepped – fairly sauntered – towards them, one huge hand curled possessively around the Tesseract. In motion he was even more strikingly unnatural. He moved without fear. All creatures tempered their motion in some way or other to avoid injury or strain or clumsiness or vulnerability. Except Thanos. He was without vulnerability; he must have been immortal since before Asgard was created. He was beyond confidence or power. He simply muscled space out of his way. He had not feared death for so long that he no longer even remembered the feeling.

How Loki envied that at times. Now, for instance. 

"Loki," Thanos said. His voice was deep but unpleasantly thin, with a rasping edge to it. 

In three too-fluid steps he was looming over them. An immense hand grasped Loki's shoulder and half-lifted him to his feet. Fear wormed its freezing tendrils into every sluggish inch of him. Death was here. He looked into its glittering eye. 

Thanos spun him around to face the empty throne room. One mottled hand swept the air before them. The Tesseract throbbed bright. 

The room filled with people. Loki's heart leapt. A sudden warmth took the edge off the deadening chill in his veins. Alive. They were _alive._ There was Freya and Heimdall and Sif and Fandral and Mother – _Mother_. They were mortal, they looked worn and weak, they were blinking into the light as if they had not seen it in months, but they lived. Thanos had confined his slaughter to Idunn and left the others alive. For what? 

Loki searched the room. If the rest of them were still alive, surely so must he. There – a familiar stern head turned with its mantle of white hair – 

"Hail Loki Laufeyson!" Thanos thundered. His grip on Loki's shoulder was bruising. The Tesseract brightened again and in Thanos' other hand appeared the helm of Odin, winged and horned. He turned his face to Loki and his lips split in a wolf's grin. 

"... king of Asgard!" he bellowed and placed the helm on Loki's head. 

It was overlarge and weighty. Loki's breath echoed in his ears in shallow gasps. All eyes were fixed on him in his ludicrous Midgardian garb, in another man's helm, in a body too weak to support it. What game was this? 

"Loki Laufeyson, who led me to your world!" That hated name. Thanos lifted one of Loki's hands into the air in triumph. "Loki Laufeyson, who gave me the means to conquer it! Loki Laufeyson, your king!" 

He took a breath and his rough voice filled the whole of that vast hall. 

"KNEEL!" 

They did not, of course. Stripped of their power or no, they had passed their lengthy lives as gods and did not bow to any foe. 

Thanos was not perturbed. He had ultimate power at his fingertips. Their jagged nails pressed into the glowing walls of the Tesseract and it beat, and beat again like a cold, devilish heart. One by one, the people of Asgard bent, reluctant as puppets with unoiled joints. Their eyes filled with blue light. They knelt – unwillingly, but they knelt. Heimdall and Freya and Fandral and Sif. Mother. Loki did not look – he could not look – at Odin. He could not watch what remained of the All-Father bend the knee in this mockery of a coronation. 

He was aware, still, of Thor kneeling next to them on the dais, mouth open in disbelief. At least Thor's eyes retained their natural shade. Not that it mattered in the end. 

A laugh threatened to bubble from Loki's lips. The faces before him, the faces he had grown up with, had changed from surprise and recognition to naked hatred. The Tesseract forced its will upon their bodies, but Thanos had left their minds free. They saw him at the right hand of Thanos, playing at ruling over them. They saw a traitor who had torn down the ancient grandeur of Asgard out of spite and a coward who clung to the apron strings of true power. What use was it to cry, _It's a lie, I came to save you?_ No one would ever believe him. Thanos had claimed Loki as his own. 

The cunning monster, he'd fashioned a revenge more cruel than mere death. In one act, he had crushed any hope Loki might have had of – of – what had he been hoping for? He'd hoped for something from them, some token. Gratitude or honor. He stared out at the sea of familiar, hostile faces. Now there was no hope at all of ever seeing anything but hatred in those eyes. 

A tiny, hidden part of him sagged in relief. He had craved their good opinion for so long, grasping always for a prize that remained just out of reach. Now, at least, he need not try any longer. It was no use striving for the impossible. The contempt of a nation rolled over him, but it touched him not; under the crown Thanos had given him, his thoughts, sped by desperation and lightened by defeat, sprang towards new possibilities. 


	23. Quarrel with a Boot

"Kneel," Thanos said. This time it was not a roar but a harsh whisper. 

For one moment, Loki thought the command was directed at him. His entrails shivered as if they might liquefy; his knees bent infinitesimally. But no: the eyes of Thanos were fixed on Thor.

"Welcome home," Thanos said. He sounded... satisfied. Familiar, almost intimate. No doubt he was pleased to have caught Thor as well as Loki in his trap. He'd always had a particular fascination with the role Thor played in Loki's story. 

"What have you done?" Thor's voice rang like a war horn through the hall. He struggled to rise. "What have you d–?"

The Tesseract pulsed once, illuminating Thanos' fingers. Thor vanished. An oppressive silence fell.

Loki gazed, disconcerted, at the empty throne room. They were all gone; Thanos had transported them away, all at once. His mastery of the Tesseract was complete. Where was he keeping them? The prison beneath the palace could not hold near so many. He must have them in the Prime Cluster. It could grow enough cells to house each of them alone. For what purpose, Loki couldn't guess. The question was distant; the overwhelming presence of Thanos blotted out all other concerns.

He was alone with Thanos. The heavy hand still suffocated his shoulder. The Tesseract cast its fluid light upwards and he followed its path, tilting his head so his neck ached, to where it threw Thanos' brutish brow into stark relief, the deep-set eyes deeper, the glimmer inside them queasier than ever. Ultimate power had not made Thanos easier to stomach. How curious that once he'd thought this face stupid. Once he had found nothing frightful in it at all. How long ago that must have been. 

Surely it would be now.

"Was it as you dreamed?" Thanos stepped back and spread his hands.

"Dreamed?" Loki echoed. 

"Your kingdom. Your crown. Your ambition."

He could not think what the creature meant. What kingdom, what crown? "I –" he said. "My..."

"Those who have wronged you kneeling before you! A sight sweet to a king. Or a god."

Thanos climbed the steps of the left of the two thrones. They were not, as Loki had first assumed, identical: though both rose on a pedestal of shining stairs and opened their wings in a broad crescent, the one on the left was higher. The metalwork had changed. Where Odin had sat in a tangle of wave and root, Thanos presided over a labyrinth of bones. Ever an eye for the décor. 

Crown or no, Loki was not fool enough to think the second throne was for him. Thanos expected Lady Death. This invasion, this usurpation, the whole carefully laid plan aimed at the hope that his imagined lover would materialize. 

"All is changed here," Thanos said, seating himself. "I have freed this world from its unnatural life. No longer do the Asgardians cheat my lady." His hand swept a grand arc towards the unoccupied throne. "All this I have done by the power of the Cosmic Cube. So you see, Loki, our bargain is fulfilled. I have the Tesseract and you have your crown."

Some of the paralysis had fallen from Loki when Thanos had stepped away. Thanos had not killed him. Thanos had not mentioned treachery. Thanos said the bargain was fulfilled. How the Titan could fail to realize that Loki had planned to double-cross him, Loki couldn't imagine. Perhaps he didn't care after all; Thanos' mind worked in strange ways. 

No matter. Every moment Loki breathed was a victory. If he could stay alive, he might be able to escape. 

He took hold of his fear of Thanos and his horror of mortality and the bitter taste of failure and pushed them down, down, a hissing ball of serpents thrust away and confined within the deepest part of him. He must be clear-headed and limber-tongued. He must convince Thanos to give him his magic back and let him go. 

"Then you were able to take the Tesseract while it was vulnerable during Odin's attempt to transport us?" he said, as coolly as if it was not the most audacious lie he had ever told. "I foresaw that the meeting of so much dark energy and the Tesseract's own aura would create a beacon anyone with an ounce of skill could see galaxies away."

"More than that. Odin's magic suppressed her native power so much that it was easy for me to master her." The Tesseract flickered as if in memory of its subjugation. "A cunning scheme," Thanos continued, "to allow yourself to be captured. You knew, of course, that Odinson would try to take you and the Cube and that he would be so unwise as to choose a means that left you open to ambush."

Thanos was inventing lies _for_ him. Quite elaborate ones. Whatever this scheme, Loki doubted it was for his benefit. Thanos must want something from him still. Unless he was simply toying with him. What use could Loki have now, as a mortal? Thanos did not keep allies who were of no use. 

"I'm glad we agree. A most fruitful partnership," he said. "You have the Cube. No world can stand against you now. You are _truly_ supreme. As for me, I've had my just due from this realm of traitors. If you will remove this spell of mortality from me, I'll be on my way."

"On your way, Loki? Yet I have sought you throughout these worlds. No, you cannot go now. You came here to serve me."

Did frustration show on his face? Was he sweating? Thanos had ignored the part about mortality. What was this new game?

"I came to bring you Thor. How else can I still serve you?"

Thanos' hands tightened on the arms of the throne. "She has not come to me, Loki. She never comes. Even now, the destruction of the eternal life of this whole city is not enough for her."

"She will," Loki said, soothing. "You know women. They can be demanding. If she is the greatest of ladies, then will she not demand the most favors, the highest honors? And who else can give them to her but Thanos? You have no rivals."

Thanos seemed only to have half-heard him. "Loki," he said, and the coarse friendliness in his voice made Loki want to cringe away, "I dreamed of her. I saw her. When I took the Cube and looked into her heart, I saw Mistress Death there. This time, _this time_." A plaintive note whined through the horrible rasp. "This time she will have me. Thanos is supreme! I will build her a monument to extinguish all others. And you, Loki, will be my architect."

"I?" Loki said. _Me?_

Thanos had risen to his feet, a livid pillar that overshadowed even the immense proportions of the throne room. 

"I must kill them," he said. "I must annihilate them. Men and women. Gods or primitives. Children. People after people. World after world. If it takes a thousand centuries, if it takes the life of the universe. It is not enough to pour out blood in sacrifice. I have done it before and still she spurns me. I must prove my devotion, I must prove the blasphemy of life. Each gift must be beautiful, singular, harmonious, heartless. You have known the inhabitants of this realm for all the surfeit of their lives, Loki. Who else could craft for each of them the death they deserve?"

That voice had a mesmeric power. Loki felt it like a weight; he shouldered it unwillingly, struggling through the repetitive rhythm of the words to find their meaning. The implications of what Thanos had said dawned on him, slowly, in all its terrible simplicity. "You want _me_ to kill the Asgardians for you? You waited to kill them... you looked for me on Jotunheim? For this?"

Even now they waited in some Chitauri prison, weak after months of confinement and uncertainty, waiting to die. At Loki's whim. Did they know? Had Thanos boasted to them of the fate that awaited them? How black had the Titan painted his name? He couldn't ask. Oh, Mother. 

"The Cube will kill them. But you will choose the manner of their dying. Did they not betray you, their rightful king? Did they not scorn and malign you all your life? You have told me so often. So take your revenge." 

Thanos' smile was cruelty and benevolence in one. It was not a request. The tangle of snakes in Loki's gut writhed. If he refused, Thanos would kill him. If he agreed... well, in the end Thanos would still kill him. 

He could not get out without magic. Thanos would not return it to him. He grasped, feebly, at one more idea.

"Then you will lend me the power of the Tesseract to carry out this task?" If he could control it, even a little, he could escape. 

The air seemed filled with the silent laughter of Thanos. "The Cube channels and magnifies my will," he said. "If I release her, my control over this world will fail and its own power will revive. Its rejection of Death and the sorcery of its people will return. No, only I will wield – can wield – the Cube. You will tell me what you have devised and I will make it reality. What I wish, comes to pass; what I think, is."

"Then I can hardly fail to serve you," Loki said, inclining his head. He was grateful, unexpectedly, for the too-large, unwieldy helm. It helped hide his face. His mind raced. "I hope you'll give me the chance to find some more appropriate garb before we begin. This dull human drapery is hardly fit for Lady Death."

Thanos looked neither surprised nor pleased that Loki had agreed. He had, of course, already known how this conversation would go. People didn't defy Thanos. Not openly. "We begin at nightfall. We work from evening to dawn, every day until my Mistress joins me. I will summon you."

He vanished. 

As simply as that, Loki was alone in the throne room. The death's heads on the vacant thrones stared at him. He turned away from them, feeling small and watched. 

So, a new bargain was made. If he could do what Thanos asked of him, if he could kill, slowly, creatively, carefully, all the people of his home, all the people he had known and loved and hated and who hated him now beyond any hope of reconciliation, he would live a while longer. Perhaps long enough to escape with the short span of life still remaining to him. Otherwise he would be the first of Lady Death's new playthings.

He tore Odin's helm from his head and hurled it down the steps. It clanged, bouncing to where Thor had once knelt before the gathered people to accept the kingship, wearing his own helm as was proper. Where was Thor now? How long until his turn came? Loki had as good as killed him whether or not he stayed to do Thanos' bidding. All his plans had come to worse than nothing.

He knew that he could not do what Thanos commanded. The mere thought made bile rise in his throat. He would falter, his tongue would fall mute, or he would be ill. None of which would stop Thanos. He would only disgrace himself. 

If he couldn't stop Thanos and he couldn't aid him, that left only one choice. 

He ran. He fled his father's throne room into the intricate web of hallways and chambers of the palace. Weakness overwhelmed him almost immediately and he was forced to stop and bend over, gasping against a sharp pain in his side. Perhaps it was dangerous – he had no real idea what a mortal body could bear – but he could not stop for long. When he stood still, fear caught up with him. He ran on. Nothing crossed his path; he was alone, the only living thing in this house of death. 

He could hear Thor's voice, clarion-bright, echoing alongside his footsteps in the silence. _What have you done. What have you d–_

He had brought wrath and ruin, he had brought destruction, he had brought the death of the gods. 

***

When Loki emerged from the palace, the sun was sliding down the heavens. Its angled, honeyed rays still bore the heat of summer. The gardens behind the palace spread out before him, familiar in appearance but exotic in their emptiness. He had never seen them without people in them. The blithe smell of flowers drifted through the air. Soon the evening blooms would open. Idunn's grove was not far away. Or had been.

He shook himself and strode forward between banks of wine-red hollyhock. Chitauri fliers had captured them when they arrived, and if Chitauri were here, that meant their ships were here. All he had to do was steal one and he would be free. Without magic still, but free of Thanos. 

Unless Thanos came after him. As he had come to Asgard, and to Jotunheim... He stopped that line of thought. It was impossible to turn back and return to those dead rooms where nothing moved aside from himself. It was impossible to face Thanos again, to smile and speak to him and flatter his delusions. Everything in him screamed _flee, flee_ no matter the price, no matter what he left behind. 

He passed under an arch and into an avenue of rowan strewn with beds of night flowers. Not a single Chitauri could be allowed to catch sight of him, or it would report him to its Hive and then on to Thanos. Not a single Chitauri out of the thousands that must be hidden throughout the city and the hundreds more guarding or manning the Clusters. All he had to do was steal one ship from a consciousness with innumerable eyes. With no magic. His mind worried at the problem, seizing gratefully on something to distract and hold his attention.

There was a soft noise behind him. He spun, the fragile heart in his chest stuttering. 

Jane Foster froze in mid-step, one foot in a bed of white lilies. She wore human clothing, not his armor, and had her teleporter in hand, its silver chain flashing around her neck. 

A curious relief washed over him. She looked so out of place in this nightmare Asgard: a piece of a distant, mundane world, troubled only by lesser evils. And so well-known, in his home which had become so strange. 

"You came back," he said.

"Of course I came back." She was out of breath, as if she had run the whole way from Earth. She pushed an errant strand of hair out of her eyes. "What happened? You're alive! I was afraid – where's Thor?" Fear now. "Loki, where's Thor?"

He hesitated.

She turned and started toward the palace. Loki leapt after her, cringing in anticipation of an accustomed spasm. Only after he'd already barred her path did he realize there had been none. No pull, no tension, no compulsion sharpening to pain that insisted _protect Jane._ He'd forgotten. The blood oath, like all his other magic, had left him. He was free of Jane Foster. 

Yet something remained behind, like the residue of spilled blood. Sticky where your fingers pressed against it; unwilling to relinquish your skin. He nearly let surprise show on his face. He didn't move out of her way. 

"What?" she said, searching his expression. "He's not – ?"

"Thor is alive," he said quickly. "Alive and in Thanos' power." Or so he assumed. Thor was too great a prize for Thanos to kill without spectacle. 

Jane relaxed slightly. "Okay, so far so good. Where is he? How do we rescue him?" She paused. "... Why are you out here and not with him?"

"So far so good?" he repeated. "Have you lost all reason?"

She scrutinized him, then their surroundings. A breeze rustled the hollyhocks. The shadow of the palace lay long and heavy over the meandering gardens to their left. It grew bigger and darker by the minute. _I will summon you._ He must be gone before nightfall. 

"You're running away, aren't you?" Jane said.

He seized her arm and pulled her with him down the path. "We're going to find a Chitauri starship and then we will leave this place before Thanos kills us."

She wrenched her arm out of his grasp with what felt like immense strength. He stopped, baffled. 

"Not so easy to drag me around now, is it?" she said. "We came here to save Asgard. It's not like we didn't know Thanos was here. So now we save Thor first... and then we save Asgard."

He had achieved a meager calm while focused on escaping and stealing a ship. Now, ambushed and embroiled in what looked about to become a ludicrous argument, it began to melt away. Every passing second scraped at his nerves. He was too hot, his head too full of buzzing thoughts. 

"Little fool," he hissed. "Everything has changed! Thanos has banished all magic from Asgard and made its people mortal." His control was slipping, slipping like fingers on glass. "He rules the infinite power of the Tesseract and makes his every whim reality." The words burned in his throat, but they came pouring out in spite of him. "Thor can't wield Mjolnir. I have no magic. I can't steal the Tesseract and I couldn't open a portal if I did and I can't bring our army here. Our plan has failed." 

He stared down at her. She didn't look nearly as impressed as she should. 

"There is nothing here except death and more death!"

It was useless. His words had made her angry, not cowed. 

"So that's it," she said. "You don't have superpowers anymore, so you're running away. Well, as someone who's never had superpowers, excuse me if I don't think that's a good enough reason."

"You're mad. As mad as Thanos! What do you imagine you're going to do? No one can fight against such mismatched odds. We might as well be – " The word _ants_ died on his tongue as a ghost of a memory shook him. _Are you planning to step on us?_

"Humans?" She shook her head. "You don't get it, do you? You still don't get it." She sidled around him, back towards the palace. No doubt eager to fly straight to Thor, no matter where he might languish. A burst of nausea rippled through him. "You attacked Earth with a massive space army and actual magic, we beat you anyway and you still can't believe that being mortal doesn't mean you're some kind of helpless insect."

The echo of his thought startled him, but not as much as her chain of logic. He was so alert to the menace of Thanos that it was difficult to believe that another could not see it. How could she not understand how powerful Thanos was – how weak they were – how weak _he_ was?

"You think this situation is _anything_ like my invasion of Midgard?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, I do, Loki. It doesn't make any difference to me whether the bad guy is evil Loki the Norse trickster god with a magic staff or evil Thanos the creepy death fetishist with a magic box. They've both got huge amounts of power humans don't even understand, right? So why should I..."

Her lips continued to move, but he could no longer hear. The words had worked a spell on him. The world seemed to be tilting on its side. He was in Jane's body, looking through Jane's eyes. Stepping into a cell where something a hundred times stronger than him lurked, trapped and angry. Something desperate and evil. Speaking to it as if they were evenly matched. He was Jane, releasing the ancient evil from bondage with nothing but a promise as protection. He was Jane, running through worlds with that dark creature angry behind her. If he looked back, would it be Thanos or himself he saw? 

Unbidden, unwanted, a new landscape took shape in his mind's eye. Familiar pictures revolved and clicked into new positions; words that had gnawed at him receded into irrelevance, and others flared into sudden significance. _You have made me very desperate. Not to men like you. You can be damned sure we'll avenge it!_ He had brushed them aside like cobwebs, the words and the men who spoke them; gnats in the way of his grand plans. Now he was the gnat.

He felt no smaller or less alive or less himself. He was no ant or gnat or insect but a man... and so, the truth rolled over him mercilessly, were the humans who had spoken those words. Not a one of them had run from him and not a one would run from Thanos. 

Jane had fallen silent, watching him. "You look weird," she said. "Are you okay?"

She seemed more solid, more _real_ than she had only minutes ago. For months he had tried to pull her strings, control her, escape her, take her from Thor. His thoughts had circled around her, a storm whose contents shifted but whose epicenter remained fixed. He'd looked on her with hatred and contempt, mercy, gratitude, admiration at times. He'd desired her and envied her. He had even liked her. But he had never before felt the same as her. 

Until now, in this dreaming garden with the precious minutes racing away, they were bound together by a shared ephemerality, a common enemy, a life that must be saved. They formed a community of fear. Of desperation and weakness. It was the lack of his power, of everything he'd valued most, that made him the same as her, and no longer alone. She reached out to touch him, her fingertip brushing the side of his hand, and he felt the concern through her skin as if her body was speaking directly to his in a language they both knew. 

A cruel pain pierced him; sank into him and lodged there, barbed. 

"Loki?" she said. "Are you okay?"

He snatched his hand away. 

"Why did you come here?" he snarled. He tried to crush the terrible light dawning in him, but it spilled through cracks he hadn't known were there. "Do you imagine that I will help you?" he said, to her, and to the Norns, and to himself. "Thanos and I had an agreement. Now we have a new one. Whatever you believe I promised before, I am not your friend!"

She tilted her head and folded her arms. "A few minutes ago you were running away, now you and Thanos are pals again? And you wanted me to come, too. Why did you want me to come with you?"

The question split wide yet another crack. He'd acted on instinct. To leave her with Thanos had not even occurred to him. But no... she had her Midgardian device. She could come and go as she pleased. It was only he who was trapped. 

He stared back at her. He thought of being alone in a ship in the void. Trapped in a daily weakening body with an endless list of enemies who would delight in his death. His infamy as destroyer of Asgard spreading throughout the worlds. Always running and always alone. At least with Jane he wouldn't be alone. The ship in the void would be not quite as suffocating with her in it. She was, he thought with no small astonishment, perhaps the only person in all the universe who knew him and didn't despise him. 

The thought burned into him, seared him as he stood here in this garden where he had been a child who had once had family and friends. How thoroughly he'd destroyed that child and his family and his friends. 

"I know you don't want to let this happen," Jane said in a low voice. "I know you came with us because you really want to save your home. You didn't abandon Thor on Jotunheim because you didn't want Thanos to hurt him. You don't have to abandon him now. We can still do it, we don't have to let him win. We've got options – we've got friends back on Earth. There are still weapons here, right? In Odin's vault? There might be something we can use against Thanos."

She spoke with complete confidence. She was certain they would prevail somehow; certain that Loki would help her. He looked at her unruly hair, tossed by the winds of many worlds, at the stubborn set of her jaw, her tilted eyes, her plain human clothing and the gleaming chain around her neck. It disappeared into her shirt, where the device lay out of sight. Her hands, which shaped the air when she explained things as if drawing her ideas, which had built her own magic, which had saved him from the serpent's venom. The scar on her cheek that matched his own. She was not at all the silly, frail thing he had once assumed her to be. The barb lodged inside him throbbed, and he found he was afraid of her. 

_Run_ , his instincts screamed. Before something else he couldn't control happened. 

Striking like a whip, he slid one arm around her, pinning her against him. His free hand slithered into the neck of her shirt and closed on the necklace.

"Hey!" she yelped. 

He felt the shock travel through the slender length of her. He leaned close and hissed in her ear. "Don't come back." He poured all his despair and rage into the words. "Don't come back, you insignificant creature. If I see you again, I will kill you or Thanos will. Run back to your backwater world and stop meddling in the affairs of your betters."

He pressed the nearest button on the device and _shoved_. Her skin was drops of smooth heat against the pads of his fingers. Jane stumbled back – one pace, her mouth still in an 'oh' of surprise – and disappeared.

He waited a long time in the gathering dusk, but she did not return. The warmth of her faded from his hands. He'd intended to run, but his feet seemed to have grown into the earth. He couldn't have moved if Thanos appeared before him that moment with the Tesseract flashing. 

A flood and a storm raged in him. He felt he was drowning. For all he'd sent Jane away, he seemed incapable of vanquishing her and the things she'd said from his thoughts. Was this what Thor had felt like? No wonder he'd returned from Earth so different. The change in him had been something Loki hadn't understood; but now the mortal existence that Thor, too, had shared forced on him the new measure of the value of life, the meaning of courage that Thor must have experienced for himself. Time passed unnoticed as he was tossed on a rough sea.

Slowly, the turmoil in him quieted. He still ached, but he grew cooler and clearer-headed. He considered the immediate practical question. 

Behind him lay the garden and the city and, somewhere, a means of escape. Before him was the palace and in it Thanos. There or somewhere else was Thor. His mother and father. All those who believed he had betrayed them. He could go, run, flee now and leave this monstrous burden behind. Nausea rocked him again. _Thor._

Perhaps he had indeed betrayed them. He'd brought back this horror from the far side of the abyss, this creature who gave form to his own desires. Who ruled them and made them kneel and punished them for their greatness. It was as if his own hurts and slights had given rise to the thing that ravaged Asgard. Out in the darkness between the stars, he had dreamed Thanos into life. It was no surprise, then, that Thanos had followed him home when he tried to escape, like a spirit raised by a foolish sorcerer. It would follow him until he destroyed it. 

He was afraid to his bones, but he could not leave the hated thing here to gnaw out the heart of Asgard. He'd brought the monster, and mortal or not, he was the only one who could end it. His fancy of stealing a ship appeared in this moment an obvious foolishness. He would've been caught in minutes if he'd attempted it. There was no way back, only forward. He must make use of the one resource he had – the thin protection of Thanos' goodwill, or rather Thanos' tolerance – long enough to discover a weakness or a weapon that could put an end to him. 

He began to walk, with dragging steps at first but soon more resolutely. Not to the ships, but to the palace. Soon he was running. 

Odin's vault, Jane had suggested. It was worth a look.


	24. A Gaming Mood

The vault was empty.

Loki's footsteps made no sound as he strode down its dim length. He peered into each alcove as he passed. Everything had been removed – spirited away, presumably, by Thanos to one of his ships. Or perhaps somewhere less accessible if he wanted to keep it from the Chitauri. The former contents might not even be in Asgard any longer. Thanos was too clever and too fond of sorcery to leave objects of power lying around outside his control. What he could do with a tool like Gungnir... was hardly worse than what he could do with the Tesseract, Loki supposed. 

No weapons. One avenue closed off. He was starting a game of king's table with no pieces to defend his king.

He came to the end of the room where the Casket of Ancient Winters had once crowned its pedestal. It, too, was gone. For a time he'd had it in his possession. Perhaps if he'd had it when he broke through in Iau Bas, when he'd met Thanos in the flesh, events might have taken a different course. 

The last time he'd stood here, he had touched the Casket and it had revealed his true nature to him. The jotun power had overcome the illusion Odin had cast upon him since birth long enough to show him what he was. He laid a hand on the pedestal now, but his skin remained resolutely Asgardian in appearance. No residue of magic turned his flesh cold. 

For all that he loathed the jotun form, its absence now unsettled him in a way even Thanos did not. The spell maintaining his Asgardian appearance should have failed with all the other magic in him. The fact that it continued to cloak him made no sense. It should be impossible. Why did Odin's fiction persist? There was something in it he didn't understand, and he wasn't sure he would like the answer if he did. The only person who was likely to know was Odin, and even if he were here, Loki would never ask. The old man was two-faced. And proud. Even as Thanos' prisoner, Loki was sure Odin would be as prideful and iron-handed as ever. 

The image of his former foster-father in a cell disconcerted him. He banished it, pressing his hands once more against the cool pedestal so that the sensation might divert his thoughts. They still didn't change. 

As he paused there, the memory of the past came to life like a tableau playing around him. It had felt like turning to ice. A cold rage had been born in him, seeping inwards from the winter-blue jotun flesh growing over his body into his heart's blood. It was cold like iron in the deepest winter, so bitter that it cleaves to skin and burns to touch. All his life he had known himself to be different. Others knew it as well. He was the weaker, the slower, the less fearsome, the less beautiful brother, the less respected and less loved. The second son in every way. Here, as he laid hands on the Casket, he had at last understood why.

They had known – whether or not they had known it in fact, they had known it in their hearts. He was no prince or son or even a god at all. All had been a lie. They had sensed the flaw in him and shied away, turning by instinct always to Thor: the true gold. Their noble Asgardian blood had revolted by instinct at the invisible infiltrator. And, in the secret place inside of him that shivered and trembled when he looked at it from the corner of his eye, he could not blame them. For it was a material fact that frost giants were a deformed and twisted reflection of the perfection of Asgard. Who could love a cold-blooded thing from the lightless underworld?

He could still feel that freezing rage inside him. _Liars. Liars. Liar._ But when he looked back at his younger self, the image was blurred and distant, as if that Loki stood behind a pane of dusty glass. A barrier shut out some of the cold.

"Reminiscing, Loki?"

Ah. The boot had arrived. 

He allowed himself a small smile. It was too late to run. He no longer desired to. Only one path remained to him: destroy Thanos. Without weapons, without magic, he must find a way, no matter the price.

He needed time. He had one currency to buy it with: the lives of the people who had raised him. He must draw out Thanos' sacrifices as long as he could; he must play along until he could devise a scheme to overthrow him. 

He conjured again in his mind the younger Loki who had stood here, paralyzed by self-knowledge. He drew that Loki's newborn anger and hurt over him like a cloak.

"Do you know," he said, turning smartly on his heel, "the last time I was here I nearly killed Odin? It surprised even me how weak he'd become. He had long been no fit ruler. At the time, I had not the stomach to finish him."

"And now," said Thanos, "you do?"

Loki reintroduced the small, cruel smile with a flourish. "It will be my pleasure." 

Travel by Tesseract was unlike his own method of fate-weaving or any other way he had known. One moment they were in the gloom of the weapons vault, their murderous pact sealed – and the next, they were in the starlit courtyard before the palace. 

Idunn's body hung from its gallows. The doors to the antechamber and, beyond them, the doors to the throne room stood open to the summer night. Light shone from inside and he could just see, at the far end of the throne room, the dais with its two vacant seats. A clear view for the mythical Lady Death. 

So this was to be the place. 

The light spilled out in a long, bright wedge that pointed past the gallows and out into the darkness. It seemed wrong that the night should be so lovely: the stars brilliant, the air balmy, the lamps from the palace mellow and warm. 

At the hazy end of the finger of light stood Thanos. Beside him, on bent knees, was a familiar figure.

Thor.

Loki's senses snapped alert. What was _he_ doing here? Thanos could not mean to kill him now, not before the less worthy sacrifices. It would not suit the harmony of his drama. 

Loki stepped forward slowly until he stood just outside the fall of light that illuminated Thanos and Thor. 

"Is the son of Odin to be your first gift?" he asked. Thor surged to his feet, fetching up at the end of the chains that bound him at neck and wrist. Loki could feel his eyes.

"No," said Thanos. "The last. But he will see all those who go before him. And when I give him to my mistress, he will bring with him the memory of their deaths in his eyes. So his death shall be like a thousand deaths and she shall have them all over again." He raised his arms and turned in a circle, addressing the night. "Am I not generous? Have you ever been courted by such as the mighty Thanos?" His voice rang in the audienceless courtyard. 

"If you are so mighty," Thor scoffed, "return my powers and fight me. I'll send you to death soon enough!"

"I made that error once before," Thanos said. "Now I am wiser. Combat against an inferior brings no glory. Death is an art, not a childish quarrel of ego. No, Odinson, you will be my atonement. Once I had a brother not unlike you. The elder son, heir to the rule of Titan. So well beloved was he that his people styled him Eros – it means _Love_. I was too hasty when I gave him to Death. She was displeased. With you, I will not be hasty."

"I'm not surprised a creature like you started by killing his family," Thor said. He caught Loki's eye. His own were murky. A double meaning? An accusation?

Loki let nothing show on his face, but his heart faltered. Playacting for Thanos was one thing. He doubted he'd said single wholly true sentence to Thanos since they'd first met. Playacting before Asgardians... he had begun it long ago, and his heart had grown harder and his tongue smoother in the year that he'd been away.

But to convince Thor? To weave an illusion so complete that Thor would think him entirely the turncoat? To do it day after day in the midst of this bloody farce? He was not too vain to admit that there had been moments of weakness in the past. On Stark Tower, when Thor had begged him to give up his plan. When he'd found the human book of prophecy, it was Thor who had convinced him to join together to save Asgard. It was Thor, always Thor, who shook his convictions. Because he could not bear for his brother to think him vile. Grand designs shriveled into sordid scheming beneath the gaze of that unselfconscious, effortless nobility. 

He wasn't sure he could stand Thor to believe he was Thanos' junior partner in treachery and murder.

"Madman," Thor said. "You wreak havoc for a twisted dream that can never be." He directed the words at Thanos, but his eyes remained fixed on Loki. 

But Thanos, too, was watching and listening.

"Why, brother," Loki said. "I'm surprised at you. You love mortals so much, yet you would deny your friends the chance to experience mortality?" He prayed Thor would understand the words were hollow. 

"I care nothing for your wit, Loki. I don't know what game you're playing. But nothing will convince me that you've forgotten that my friends are your friends as well. You came here with good in your heart, as I did. As my brother and ally."

 _Damn_. Damn the blundering idiot. He could see the defiance in Thor's eyes. _Prove me wrong_ , they said, _I know you cannot._ Something in him rebelled at the thought of destroying that fragile confidence, so recently regained. In spite of everything they had done to each other, in spite of Loki sending the Destroyer after Thor and Thor throwing him into the abyss, it had sprung up like a slender shoot struggling to grow in the field of stones they had sown. If he crushed that shoot now... 

Yet whatever else happened, he could not let Thanos know he was a false ally or they were all lost. If only he could communicate with Thor without Thanos knowing. It was an absurdity that he'd spent years lying and concealing his thoughts from Thor, and now, when he most needed to speak to him, he couldn't.

He chose his words with more care than ever before in his life. He did not lessen the sneer in his voice or the purposefully childish triumph on his face. But he held his brother's gaze with an intensity that should look, to Thanos, like hatred, but was really a frustrated shout of _listen, listen, you great simpleton._

"You always underestimated my skill," he said. "Especially at duplicity. When the two of us came here, I was no more a true friend to you than I have ever been a true brother. And now you're here in chains as proof of it. Know your defeat, son of Odin."

Thor stared at him. _Two of us._ Understand, Loki urged silently. He hadn't told Thanos about Jane. He was not Thanos' lackey. _Know your defeat._ Play along. Don't get yourself killed. I have a plan.

If only that last part were true. 

Thor's shoulders slumped. "Ever did I misjudge you," he said, "to my own misfortune."

The pleasure in Loki's laughter was not entirely feigned. 

"Your misfortune is the glory of Lady Death," Thanos said, and the conviction in his voice gave the scene an air of incongruous ceremony. He laid a mottled hand on the Tesseract. Its light flared, mingling blue with the warm rays from the palace. Three shadows appeared on the ground beside that of the gallows. And before Loki even followed them to their source, he knew who they were. 

Mortal or not, they were no less warriors. It took mere moments for them to realize where they were and with whom. As one, they hurled themselves on Thanos, armed with nothing but bare fists and righteousness. Thor shouted a warning in vain. 

They made it no more than a few steps before they were jerked into motionlessness like puppets in the hands of a clumsy storyteller. Loki could see their muscles tense and cramp, but the Tesseract's control was unyielding. It was Thanos' will that held them. 

"Thanos binds you!" Thanos rasped. 

"Wretch," Fandral ground out. "Loose us and fight or know yourself a coward!" Volstagg roared in wordless rage. Hogun was silent, but succeeded in clenching his hands into fists.

Thanos ignored them all equally. No taunt could touch him. There was nothing he feared; there was no vulnerability in him. No nerve to be stung, no crack in his armor. It was what made him terrifying and monstrous and sometimes, unwillingly, awe-inspiring – for all other living beings feared death, but Thanos loved it. And without fear of death all his other fears had vanished. 

"Loki has spoken to me of you three," Thanos said. "The heroes of legend. The enemies of his youth. Celebrated, prideful. Now you will be celebrated corpses! When you see Mistress Death, tell her mighty Thanos courts her. Tell her Thanos loves her as no one else has or ever will."

"Traitor!" Volstagg spat. "You writhing worm, if I'd known what you were, you would not be breathing today!" He struggled impotently against his invisible bonds, his big body straining, his coarse face growing red. 

"You must be pleased I proved to be as unworthy as you always believed," Loki said. "But it's too late to change things now. I was and am the rightful king of Asgard, and the penalty for treason is death."

"Treason was always on your part," Hogun said. "We were loyal to our king."

"We never thought you unworthy until you stabbed us in the back," Fandral said. "It was you who were no friend to us!"

"Quiet!" Loki snapped. They had always been prejudiced; he'd _not_ imagined it. Still, he had no mind to argue with dead men. The sooner this was over, the better. Especially since he could feel the palms of his hands growing clammy. 

"So much pain," Thanos said with his terrible smile. "Such a bright offering to take with you into the dark – a bleeding soul." Then he threw out a hand to point at Loki. "Choose one! Choose the first for Death."

The moment stretched out for a long time as they stood in the uncanny halo of the Tesseract, that corrupt power, being used in the most corrupt way. Loki was frozen not so much with indecision as with pure disorientation. 

Choose one. Whom did he hate most? To his misfortune, he found he did not hate any of them. Volstagg looked like a swine and had a cruel tongue, as did Fandral, who was facile to boot. Hogun had no need for cutting remarks at all, so much disdain could he convey by looks. They had all made him the butt of their jokes for – oh, so many years. Yet those thousand years now felt shorter than the most recent one he had lived. What did he care for these remnants? Why was he pronouncing death on them? Was this revenge, was it Loki the wronged paying back those who had always secretly loathed him – was it Loki the conqueror, exercising his right to destroy the vanquished – was it Loki the puppet, dangling on Thanos' strings? Or was Loki the puppeteer? He could not keep all these versions of the truth straight; they spun in his mind, fragmenting and coalescing. Who pulled the strings?

He pushed back hard at the spinning. He must play the role; it didn't matter who he was as long as he played the role. The illusion must be perfect, the most perfect he had ever created; and he had no magic, only his wits. 

"Volstagg," he said, and his voice was so calm even Thanos betrayed a fleeting surprise. "Take Volstagg first."

Thor threw himself against his chains, shouting, and there was a great deal of commotion. In the midst of it Loki remained calm. He heard his voice speaking, and it sounded so unlike anything he wished to say he wondered that Thanos didn't see through this weak ruse and put an end to it now. The Warriors Three prided themselves on their loyalty, his voice said. Let them have that pride taken away. Let Volstagg fall by the actions of his comrades. Weapons? None were needed. Warriors such as these could tear a foe apart with their bare hands. 

He heard Thanos laughing in pleasure. He remembered the first time he'd heard Thanos laugh: in the sky above Rigel-3, when the planet's defenses had fallen. Then, it had been Loki's first realization that Thanos was far more intelligent and dangerous than he appeared. Now, he knew it meant the illusion was working.

So it began.

***

It went on for a long time. Familiar faces processed before him, one after the other, and ended all alike with staring eyes. Meili and Eir, Beyla and Astrild. He made their deaths slow so that they might be few, and was aware that the slowness added a savagery to the illusion he was weaving that he had not anticipated. But he had no other move except to comply. Thanos commanded and Loki obeyed, concealing all defiance behind a hastily crafted masquerade. By Thor's silence and the hooded look of his eyes, perhaps he was doing the same.

Dawn was beginning to touch the sky when Thanos finished his games. Loki could not remember what he said or did at the end, but it must have satisfied Thanos, for he was allowed to leave. To sleep and take food, as mortals must. 

He went with slow steps and a sick feeling in his stomach that grew and grew. He recognized it. He'd felt it before, though never in such magnitude. _Guilt._ He could hide his feelings behind the mask, but he couldn't make them disappear. The awareness that had descended on him in the gardens with Jane couldn't be undone. The suffering of others, which had in the past belonged only to them, of no more concern to him than that of animals, suddenly seemed to be happening to him as well. 

He was inside the palace and safely alone when his legs began to shake. He stopped and steadied himself against the wall of the passageway, but the feeling didn't go away. He rested his forehead against the cool stone. It was gray-green like the sea. He was in the old wing, where the relics of Asgard's past were kept in archives and showrooms and telling halls. He had come here as a child, with Thor, for history lessons. These halls had been full of archivists and bards and servers bringing food and drink to the rooms that permitted them. 

He turned his head. There was a window at the end of the passage spilling clear morning light onto the silvered floor stones. The walls hung with tapestries. Where was Thor now? And was he, too, sick to the core of him? At what they had witnessed? Was he cursing Loki now, or did he still – _could_ he still – ?

A sound disturbed the dead silence. He found that he was not surprised. He hadn't really believed she'd gone for good.

"Loki!"

He wasn't sure his feet would hold him, so he turned and let the wall support his back. Jane Foster was pointing a gun at his heart.

"You're about to make a lot of people very happy," he said. But the sight of her made him happier still, the sight of someone who lifted the harsh silence, someone who was not part of Thanos' games. He had a sudden urge to crush her to him but, he reflected, she might shoot him and he would likely fall down before he even reached her. He filled his eyes with her instead. Jane Foster, come back to save him and Thor and Asgard with a gun and sheer obstinacy. He could almost laugh. 

"Just shut up and listen to me. I'm not here to kill you. But you have to help us save Thor."

The gun didn't waver, but she gripped it with such determination that she'd obviously been steeling herself for this moment. 

"Since you just admitted you won't kill me, I've little reason to do as you say," he observed. 

She stared at him. Her jaw tightened. "Okay. I'm not great at threatening. But just because I don't _want_ to shoot you doesn't mean I won't do it." She raised the gun higher. "Clint showed me how to use this."

Ah. Barton. You had to admire a man who could get a dig in even from a world away. 

"Thor's alive," Loki said. "I saw him this last night."

Jane exhaled. "Where is he?"

"I don't know. Thanos has him locked up somewhere. Perhaps in his flagship. Or a dungeon. He's keeping him alive until... later."

"And then he'll kill him. For his imaginary girlfriend, if I'm getting this right. But he thinks you're on his side?"

"He thinks we have an agreement. He's allowed me to live so far because he thinks I came here to deliver Thor to him, not to save Asgard from him. Whatever you and your friends want me to do, we have to do it before he decides otherwise."

"Okay." She let the gun drop. "So our options are kill him, capture him, get him out of Asgard somehow. Does he trust you?"

"Nobody trusts me, Jane."

"Fair point." She started to pace in short circles, just as if she were in Stark Tower on Earth trying to explain some problem of...

Science.

His breath caught. His weakness vanished. It was as if he'd been looking at a map upside down and only now turned it right side up. And a chill ran down his spine. He could almost hear the Fates cackling, feel them tugging on his strings. They had sent him a foe who had an army, an arsenal, a source of infinite power, and an inability to die that defied logical explanation. Thanos owned every piece on the board. Fate had given Loki nothing... nothing, except one single piece. The only piece that mattered. In a world without magic, the woman of science.

"What?" Jane Foster said. "You're giving me a weird look again. You're not going to freak out again, are you? This is a real gun with real bullets."

"Selvig's apparatus. The one he used to open the portal. Could you bring it here?"

She frowned. "It's too big to carry. I'd have to bring it in parts and reassemble it here. But what difference would that make? You'd still have to steal the Tesseract. I thought you said you couldn't do that."

The difference was that he would have the machine at his disposal. A plan crystallized in his mind. It was simple in principle, difficult in execution, and had a number of weak points, but he wasn't exactly awash in options. It could work. That was the important point. _It could work._ He could vanquish Thanos and maybe, if fortune loved him just this once, he could undo what Thanos had done to Asgard.

The only thing he needed was a piece of that machine. But there was no way he could tell Jane why. The idea he'd had came with a bloody price she would never contemplate paying. He needed her, but he couldn't let her know what for. He would have to invent some tale to make her do what he wanted. 

He forged ahead, lying easily. "Suppose we could activate the Tesseract – control it – _without_ taking it away from him?"

Her face lit up. "That's _brilliant._ Remote activation! If we can get control of the Tesseract from a distance, we can still open a portal and let the Avengers and the army at him. But that would take more than just bringing the equipment here. Erik's work would need to be modified. I'll have to be able to lock onto the Tesseract's energy signature and then send a command to it somehow."

"Is it possible?"

Of course she would bite. A way to save Thor, and one that would rest in her own hands? Jane couldn't resist that. 

"It might be," she said. "With Erik to help me. I'll need a workspace. It's a _crazy_ idea."

"A moment ago it was brilliant."

"It's crazy _and_ brilliant."

She pushed the gun, forgotten now, into the back of her trousers. Her eyes sparkled and she was grinning. In so few words, she was back on his side. He needed to keep her goodwill as surely as that of Thanos. Somewhere inside him, a barb twisted. He had to keep her _away_ from Thanos. 

"I know somewhere you can work. Follow me."

What was a place Thanos was unlikely to go? Loki had no idea where Thanos might turn up... but he knew somewhere that might be useful in other ways. A forgotten corner, but as full of magic in its way as Odin's vault. He might not be able to use any of it, but it would still feel better to be surrounded by it. 

He led Jane through the empty halls for a long time, up to the higher levels where the less essential functions were located. It would've taken only seconds if he could have used a light pillar, but without magic he couldn't spark one. So they climbed endless spiraling staircases, stopping to rest with irritating frequency. Up and up until the rooms became blessedly less familiar. Up to a room at the very top of one of the central spires. 

It was perfectly round, taking up the whole of the tower's inside. Tall windows pierced the walls at regular distances, unfurling a view of the entire city of Asgard. From the outside they looked as solid and golden as the rest of the palace: an illusion covered them to preserve the tower's immaculate surface. 

A large circular basin occupied the center of the room, set directly into a speckled stone floor. It was shallow and filled with water as reflective as a mirror, but instead of the ceiling above, it showed a starry sky. As expected, Jane was drawn to it like a magnet. 

She crouched and reached out to touch the water. A ripple spread across the basin, disturbing only the very surface, while the rest lay still as glass. 

"What is this place?" she said, looking around. Ancient paraphernalia littered the rest of the room. A heavy black table held several scrying bowls and cabinets between the windows sagged with bottles and boxes. 

"An observatory. An old observatory. It hasn't been used since... well, a long time. Heimdall's sight is far keener." He came to stand at the edge of the basin next to her. The water did not show them; it was as if they did not exist, as if the room were empty. Or they were invisible. A strangely comforting thought. "The stars are out of alignment," he said. "The pool needs calibration."

She shook her head. "Only on Asgard do _pools_ need calibration."

That gave him a thought. "How did you find me? Twice now your necklace has taken you directly to me. It could've landed you anywhere in Asgard."

She looked up at him. "I used your equation," she replied. "Your probability equation. I programmed it into the teleporter. It generates your coordinates. So now I can jump straight to wherever you are."

The equation. Stark Tower, that night he'd come in... a foolish piece of boasting. He'd wanted to show her that her accomplishment was not so great. And needle Thor with the fact that they shared an understanding he didn't.

So. One string between them had been cut and she'd tied another to him immediately. He had no time to digest this before another, more pressing thought struck him. 

"If you teleport to me when I'm with Thanos, he'll kill you. You must stop doing it."

"Right. I'll reset the coordinates for here when I get back to Earth." She stood up. She spoke with nonchalance, but the way she held herself too still betrayed her. "What have you been doing with Thanos?"

Murdering people. Planning to murder people. Entertaining a madman. Lying.

"Talking," he said. "Something, you'll agree, I'm wonderful at."

"Talking about what?"

"The things that interest someone like Thanos. His glorious past conquests, his plans for galactic domination, how troublesome his mistress is. The last time I was with him, we developed a kind of understanding."

"And... you won't tell him I'm here."

_You won't turn me over to him. I won't walk in here one day and find him waiting for me?_

Such a fragile trust. The depth of his revulsion at the suggestion surprised him. He felt again that ghost of a compulsion, dried-blood sticky, not to allow her to come to harm. He no longer had anything but himself to blame it on. 

"Your secret is safe with me," he said. "I can't bind my promise with blood this time. Will a handshake do?" He offered his hand. 

She looked as if she might refuse at first, but then she grasped his hand, far harder than necessary. 

"Don't forget you're mortal now. I still have that gun."

"I submit to your will entirely."

Her fingers twitched in his grip. "Why did you change your mind? You were so set on running away you literally pushed me off this planet. But then you went back anyway."

"You were expecting me to, weren't you? Hence that rousing speech. Why so surprised? Isn't that what you wanted?"

Her eyes were opaque. "I just can't keep track of your changes of heart."

The memory of that brief struggle in the garden was hot upon him. He had come too close to her, so close he had seen through her eyes. He could no longer extricate himself, and he was tired of struggling. Something in him was crumbling. A hook had sunk into his flesh and where it pulled, he bled. The other end of its line, he feared, led into the distance far beyond his control. To Jane. 

She started to slip her hand from his, but he seized it again. "You were right," he said. "I did really want to save Asgard. I won't abandon Thor, not to Thanos. It may be too late to save either of them. But even if that's true – especially if it's true – I can't let that monster live. Thanos must die. Do you believe me? Because if you don't, we won't get very far."

She studied him, making a show of thinking about it, but he knew he already had her. Working together had become too much a habit and all of her thought was bent on the problem of controlling the Tesseract and saving Thor. She had nothing to spare any for brooding on a possible betrayal. 

"I believe that you want to take down Thanos," she said. "And you didn't run. You're still here." She succeeded in pulling her hand away this time. "Luckily. We probably wouldn't get very far without you. We wouldn't even know what was going on."

"Such flattery! I'm truly moved."

She rolled her eyes, but without rancor. "Funny. You have no idea what a relief it is to not be alone here, trying to deal with all – _this_ – by myself."

But he did know, he wanted to tell her. 

"If we work together we might actually have a chance to stop Thanos," she continued. "I'm going. I'll be back as soon as I have some news." She took a step back, watching him. "Don't die." Then she was gone.

He stumbled to the long table and braced his palms against it. That was the key piece in place. The whole precarious structure of his plan hung upon it. If something went wrong somewhere in this labyrinth of mirrors he was creating... he had nothing in reserve this time. Too much had been stripped away.

He'd lied to her, of course. If Thanos had a will ferocious enough to tame the Tesseract, no soulless machine would wrest it away from him. Thanos never slept, never faltered, never tired. There was no chink anywhere that could be forced by brute strength. It couldn't be done.

Fortunately, it didn't need to be done. Trickery could prevail where force couldn't. If they needed a portal, all he had to do was tell Thanos there was an army of champions chomping at the bit to fight him. Thanos would open the portal himself and court battle with glee. And win. Even the Hulk was no match for Thanos armed with the Tesseract. Against Thanos alone, perhaps – Loki didn't know enough about either the Hulk or Thanos' immortality to tell – but not against the Tesseract. Thanos would slaughter them all. 

But not without paying a price for it. Loki had not been wholly oblivious to Selvig's work. There was a piece of the machine that told the portal where it must open. Once Jane brought that piece to Asgard, he could take it. Once he told Thanos about the army, Thanos would open the portal. To open the portal, he would have to take the Tesseract off his neck. And set it down. And while he was fighting, he would be busy. Distracted. He wouldn't have attention to spare to see Loki take the Tesseract and change the other end of the portal. He would open a doorway to... to the void, the abyss. With the portal under his control, he could cast Thanos out from Asgard. 

His plan was fragile, but it fit together as neatly as clockwork. Its only flaw was that Thanos would make short work of the Avengers and their allies. Jane would never agree to a plan that required sacrificing her friends. He couldn't let her know his true intention. 

His thoughts danced in a fevered frenzy. Would hurling Thanos into space kill him? If Loki could survive the abyss, he must assume Thanos could as well. But surely if he cast the Titan far enough away, he would lose his grip on the Tesseract. Magic and immortality would return to Asgard. And with his magic back, Loki might be able to use the Tesseract to undo the deaths Thanos had caused. He hadn't been able to master it before, but this time his will must be pure enough. He could not contemplate the enormity of the price he was paying otherwise. _Red in my ledger._

And even if he couldn't wield the Tesseract, a reluctant whisper inside him said, perhaps Thor could. Thor was the failsafe. If Loki could only keep him alive until he carried out the plan. 

So: he had a lie for Thanos and within it, a lie for Jane and within that, the truth, as ever, only for himself. All he had to do was play the parts he'd created for himself. He saw the steps on the game board laid out before him in a tortuous path and on the far side, deliverance. No one could see them except him, but that was why he would win. 

Exhaustion rolled over him; and he slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains: minor character death


	25. Sweet as Pain

Loki slept for a long time. Mortal sleep plagued him with dreams of an unfamiliar intensity. He dreamed of endless hallways and passages where he wandered until he collapsed from exhaustion. All the doors were closed; he dared not open them, not even to find the way out. The dreams went on and on, imbued with such reality that he forgot he slept. 

When he swam up to consciousness at last, it took some moments for him to realize he was awake. He heard a sound and opened his eyes to slits. 

Jane sat cross-legged on the floor by the basin, studying the stars. She hadn't noticed him wake. He watched from under his lashes as she stretched out her hand. Her fingers hovered over the surface of the water, tracing mysterious patterns. The observatory couldn't, of course, be operated without magic, but that seemed to make no difference to her.

Trust Jane to be distracted by stars in any situation. Even half-dead in Jotunheim he'd practically been able to see her cataloguing them in her mind. She was probably doing the same thing right now. 

She got up and went to one of the windows. Its filigree inlay framed her head as she fumbled with the fastening for a moment before opening it. She leaned out, her heels rising; the ledge was too high for her. The wind stirred her hair. She craned her neck to look at the late afternoon sky. 

"Is the end of the world over?" he asked idly. "Are we moving on to the more pressing task of sightseeing?"

She jumped and spun, looking faintly guilty. "Oh good, you're awake. I was waiting."

He rose from where he'd fallen asleep with his back against the wall and joined her. Despite his troubled sleep, he felt rested and calmer, as if he'd left some of the frantic energy of his thoughts in the dream-maze. "Do you see anything?"

"It's empty. Where are all the people? Has Thanos... killed them all?"

"No. He has them locked away. But he'll kill them eventually if we can't stop him."

They stood side by side, gazing out over the city. He stole a glance at her from the corner of his eye. She looked very serious. It wasn't the city she was watching, but the sky. With her dark eyes raised she had the air of the visionary, seeing what others could not. Yet at the same time she seemed... lost. 

There was a raw spot inside him. The sensation of an invisible hook lying within him returned. Jane's lashes fluttered and her teeth pressed into her bottom lip in unconscious thought; and the hook tugged, tugged and smarted. It hurt him, but it would hurt more to pull away. His fingertips remembered the heat of her skin. 

"You have planets orbiting you," she said. Her voice had a rough edge. "And a _sun_. How is that possible?" She turned quizzical eyes on him. The tilt of her head exposed the bare line of her neck. 

"Sunna? It was captured from Jotunheim long ago." By Odin and his brothers, the sons of Bor, when they built Asgard. How they would weep to see their city now.

"What? You guys just... took their sun?"

"Well, it's not like they wanted it. Jotuns hate sunlight."

"At least I finally know why they don't have one. And the planets? Were those captured, too?"

"They were created to fortify the city. I suppose they haven't been very effective."

Jane shook her head. "An Einstein-Rosen bridge, all right, I already believed they existed. Super-strength, well, you're aliens. Magic is just science we don't understand yet. But this? This is incredible. Your people built their own solar system. I can't even imagine how you would do that. The amount of power involved must've been immense. Incalculable."

"Evidently not immense enough," he said, looking out over the deserted city. 

She was frowning. "I've been wanting to see Asgard for so long. And now it's all turning out so differently from how I hoped." Her fingers tightened on the window-ledge. "I used to imagine Thor coming back to whisk me away to this amazing place. All the strange people I'd meet. All the technology I'd get to take apart there."

Instead she was seeing it with Loki. "I'm sure my brother will be overjoyed to give you a full tour if any of us survive this." 

"That's not funny."

"Desperate times call for desperate wit."

She drew herself up, losing some of her distracted manner. "We're wasting time. Better get started."

She went to the table which, he saw, was laden not only with scrying bowls but with pieces of Earth machines and a pack to wear on one's back. "I brought you some food," she said, nodding to one of them. "Didn't know how you were doing up here, but you won't be much use if you're passing out from hunger halfway through the plan."

"Thank you," he said, following her. He hadn't even thought of eating; he'd simply sat down and fallen asleep after she left. Now he was ravenous after only a day. Being a mortal was getting tedious. 

"Secondly, I talked to Erik. He's going to help me modify his machine. Unfortunately, due to certain mind control experiences, his memories of building it are hazy. It might take some time."

"Pierced by my own darts," Loki said sadly. "I'm chastened. Convey my deepest regrets to Selvig."

Jane shot him a glare, but it had little force. "Thirdly, no one likes the plan. _Really_ no one likes the plan."

"What's wrong with it?" he asked, rummaging through the bag. "Don't your friends have faith in your inventive abilities?" There was a box of milk inside. He found the human habit of putting liquids in boxes bizarre. 

"Sure they do. It's you they're worried about, of course. They're afraid you might double-cross us with Thanos." She was taking more objects out of bags and arraying them on the black, splintered surface of the table: a silver circular frame, long rods like the spokes of a wheel, bars and hexagons, two big gleaming cylinders. The debris of his last, failed plan.

"Well, you'll simply have to keep Midgard happy. There's nothing they can do about it, is there? You're the only one who can travel between worlds."

"They could take away my teleporter. Stop me from coming here and give up on Asgard. Erik would think it was for my own good." She grimaced. 

Blood on the polished gold of the courtyard. Silent halls full of ghosts. To be alone here as Thanos devoured Asgard from the inside. Waiting his turn... "That would be idiocy. They would leave Asgard to a power like Thanos? They would abandon Thor?"

"We've only got your word that Thor is still alive at all," she said.

"He is," Loki said fiercely. "He is, and unless he does something truly stupid, he'll stay alive long enough for this to work."

"He'd better," Jane said under her breath. "My point is, we have to work fast before somebody loses patience. I'm going to need your help."

"What exactly do you want me to do?"

"You know about the Tesseract. We have some data back on Earth, but anything could be useful. And I want to know if any of this stuff," she waved at the old instruments scattered around the observatory, "might help."

"Our tools? They won't respond to a mortal will. They all require at least the magic innate in the soul of a god."

"Isn't that true of the Tesseract, too? Erik still managed to tap into it. Magic, science, same thing, you said so yourself."

It couldn't hurt to give her what she wanted. She was already busy, her hands flying over the intricate innards of what would become her machine. "If I said it, it must be so. What do you need?"

"Two main things: a way to detect the Tesseract's particular energy thumbprint at a distance and a way to send it instructions. Since this is an observatory, I thought there might be detection equipment here. Do you have something like a magic spectrometer?"

Midgardian names always had so many syllables. "One can only hope not. What an ungainly-sounding thing. What does it do?"

"It reads part of the electromagnetic spectrum and tells you stuff about it. Like polarization, wavelengths, intensities. You can identify a particular light source by its unique properties."

"Magic doesn't have a spectrum. It's something you do – bend the world around you to your will."

"I thought you said it was innate to being a god?"

"It is."

"What, you guys bend reality just by existing?"

"Yes, exactly." He'd thought she'd understood that, after all the time she'd spent with him and Thor.

She took a patient breath. "Someday I'm going to make all this make sense. But right now, I need something that can detect the Tesseract bending reality to Thanos' will." She began to pick a way through the room, opening cabinets and leaning down to examine instruments that waited on the floor for stargazers who had stopped coming. Some of them might not have been touched since he'd last been here himself. 

"There's no dust," Jane said. "I though this place was supposed to be old."

"Dust doesn't fall here the way it does in other Realms."

"Why am I not surprised? What's this one?" She pulled a long staff with a point that gleamed painfully bright out of a frame on the wall.

It had been so long since he'd visited the observatory that the tools looked only half-familiar. More than that, it was dangerous for him to stay here. If Thanos summoned him – if Thanos appeared here seeking Loki as he had in the vault, he would discover Jane. That thought made the panic he'd managed to keep at bay seethe and roil in his gut. He should spend as little time with Jane as possible. He should leave now.

He didn't. Asgard's emptiness accused him. To spend hours surrounded by its silence, its halls once filled with gods now crawling with Chitauri... Better to stay. Here with Jane, he could, though not without difficulty, blot out the memory of what he'd done and the dread of what he must do. Even if only for a short time. He knew it was a foolish decision. _Sentiment._ It was dangerous and craven. Still he lacked the will to go. 

No wonder the Tesseract had never respected him.

"That's a darkbane," he said. "It finds unknown stars and adds them to the mirror."

"And this?" Her hand trailed over a cabinet and picked up a set of silver finger caps connected by nearly invisible chains. 

"It's called a farslayer. It allows you to see parts of the sky more closely."

"This is the zoom button?" she said with a wry smile and put it back down. 

Loki had caught her spirit of inquiry. He surveyed the room. A weirdlight. A scorpion. Some decrepit old patterning chalices probably obtained from the Dwarves. His eye lighted on something more promising.

"Try this," he said, disentangling a wheel from where it lay entwined with a set of time rods. It was part of a larger device; after a moment's searching he found the other pieces. "An Eye of Nótt." When he'd reassembled the parts, they formed a collection of interlocking wheels that could be arranged at any angle to each other. Holes of varying sizes pierced the edges of each wheel in a unique pattern.

"What is it?" Jane said, tracing the geometric engraving along one of the wheels.

"Starlight has magical properties. Light from different stars has different uses. The Eye of Nótt tells you what you can use a particular star for."

"That's definitely in the right neighborhood," she said, taking the resurrected instrument back to the big table. "How does it work?"

He explained the principle of the matter, and she explained the principles of her own device. The minutes became hours. The talk fell into familiar contours: she asked questions, he answered. She asked more questions and theorized aloud about the answers and he listened intently to every word, pretending he did no such thing. Yet beneath the well-trod paths of their conversation, everything was different. Once they had worked like a machine at cross purposes, every gear grinding against every other. Now the machine hummed with well-oiled smoothness. 

He watched the motion of her hands, their slender lines, the pale half-moons of fingernails slightly chewed. Her hair, which she always wore loose, fell tawny and careless over her face. Under his gaze her movements grew hesitant. 

"You know this stuff pretty well," she said. "Did you used to come here? Were you an astronomer?"

"A stargazer. For a time. It was a sort of boyhood infatuation I dabbled in six hundred years ago or so."

She snorted. "I guess with a lifespan like yours you've got time to try every hobby under the sun. Why did you stop?"

"Stop stargazing? Well, it had little practical use. Heimdall's sight could tell us more than most of these instruments, and with the Bifrost we could simply go wherever we chose to explore. The observatory became old-fashioned." Which had been the last thing he'd wanted. Back then he'd been in sore need of impressive feats to keep up with Thor's growing fame. Spending time on the esoteric, obsolete art of stargazing would only have given him a reputation of one who avoided both company and battle. It had seemed important, then, not to be such a person.

"Old-fashioned," Jane sighed. "The things I could do if I had the time to really look at some of this equipment. It would probably revolutionize our whole understanding of science."

She was ever eager to reduce things to their constituent parts, their hidden interrelations. Even, he thought with a not unpleasant shiver, him. "Why do you do it? With the kind of tools you have, you could hardly hope to learn much. Why dedicate your life to looking at little points of light you'll never visit?"

"What, you want my personal statement now?" she smirked, mystifyingly. "All right. We're not as ignorant as you think, you know. We know that we're only a speck of dust in a big universe. When I look at the stars, I don't just see little points of light, I see the whole rest of existence that isn't Earth. It's like a window out into the world, right above our heads. And I always believed there were other people looking out their own windows at the little point of light that's the Sun. How could I not be interested in that? And besides, as the first human to visit not just one but two alien worlds, I think I turned out pretty successful."

"Thanks to Thor's banishment." Which, in a way, had been Loki's doing, though he hadn't exactly planned it. "You have a jotun's own luck, Jane Foster."

She looked at him and the charge between them he'd felt ever since the gardens intensified until he could almost hear the air hum. Her brow creased as if she felt it, too. The silence grew awkward, brimming with confusion. 

"I'd better go," she said quickly. "Back to Midgard. I mean, Earth. I've got some calculations to do and more equipment to pick up."

"Don't linger," he said. At the very mention of her departure the walls seemed to crowd in.

"I know. No time to waste. I've got to figure this out before Thanos starts killing people."

At last, the gears ground, the purposes crossed. Underneath the apparent harmony they each believed they were working towards a different goal. This bright afternoon and its imitation of trust were as false as he was. 

"No," he said, "at all costs we can't permit that to happen."

***

After Jane had gone, he sat among the entrails of their day's work and ate the food she'd left him. He tarried longer than he ought to, cowering in what he knew was the deceptive safety of this hidden cranny.

When he'd finished, he went to his chambers. 

They were untouched. Everyone had mourned him, Thor had said. For the first time, he half-believed it. In these quiet rooms where he'd grown up, the very air was infused with who he had been, and none of it had been changed. He saw his mother's orders in the neatness of the bed with its great curved sides, in the summer curtains and the smell of fresh air. All his books were here, his wardrobe, his favorite weapons. The fountain on the balcony still ran, just as if they'd expected him to come back. 

And now he had. 

The solitude weighed on him. He toiled under it as he walked around the room, touching familiar fixtures. Books still sat on the table before the cold hearth. _The Saga of Bor_ and Tyr's _Warcraft_ – volumes he'd wanted people to think he was reading. The books he'd truly been interested in must still be concealed in the secret shelf behind the wall. He spoke the password to it, but it didn't open; there was no magic in his voice. The colored glass of the windows stained the sunlight as it passed through. The fountain, shaped like a tangle of knots with a wolf's head spouting water into a basin, sang its merry song. He'd fallen asleep to its notes every night since he'd become a young man and left the children's quarters. 

He wished for a fierce, aching moment that he could step back into this skin he had discarded so violently, that he could turn back the hours until this Loki, the disgraced prince, the lackey of Thanos, ensnared in a web of his own making, had never existed. If he could only do it all again, grow up all over again and take another path and become some other man. 

It was no use. The past clung to him like a cold sweat. He could not brush it off no matter how he wished it.

He went to the basin and began to wash. His Midgardian clothing was rumpled and stank, no doubt, of fear. He cast it off and, after he'd washed, went to the wardrobe. He chose the finest garments he'd had when he had lived in this room and been a prince of Asgard. Green and black and gold, leather and linen and metal, trousers and long tunic and a light broad-shouldered overcoat despite the summer weather. The ornamental greaves he slipped on were green and embroidered with a pattern of gold scales, and he placed a gold torque about his neck. Without magic to cast an illusion around himself, he must resort to simpler subterfuge. 

When he left, he was every inch the royal, and he took with him one of the ceremonial spears that adorned the wall above the bed. It was far too ornate to have ever been taken into real battle, but at least he was not entirely weaponless. 

The hours until Thanos summoned him again were a torment, but so too was the summons itself. He was given no warning. One moment he was walking the streets of the city under the newly emerging stars, hoping vainly that if he was difficult to find, the slaughter might be delayed. The next he was in the execution courtyard, where Thanos brooded on his stolen throne and Thor languished in chains, looking far worse for wear than Loki. 

"You seem eager, trickster," Thanos said. Malevolent eyes twinkled from beneath the caverns of his brows. "Have you been dreaming of blood? I have been dreaming of how best to spill it and whose it shall be. This one does not wish to dream with me, but he will be part of my dream all the same."

Thor was – by his standards – haggard, which meant that he still had more of an air of kingship about him than either Loki in his finery or Thanos on his throne. His red-rimmed eyes followed Loki as he drifted closer. The chains about his neck and wrists that anchored him to the ground had chafed the skin beneath. An image flashed through Loki's mind of Thor in a fury, hurling himself against his restraints again and again. _Stupid, stupid._

"We are all part of your dream," Loki said with a grudging incline of his head. "Thanos is supreme. Don't you agree, brother?"

Thor glowered in response to his smile. "You look dressed for a festival, Loki. I cannot fathom how black your heart must be to caper and crimp at the murder of those who were once your friends."

Had Thor forgotten the message Loki had sent him last time? Or was he, too, simply playing his part? They ought to behave as if they were enemies. It was impossible to tell if they really were enemies. 

"Once is the operative word there, Thor. I have other friends now."

"No, Loki. You of all people are truly friendless."

He found himself without a reply, so he turned to Thanos. "It's my pleasure to assist you in getting rid of these former friends of mine. I do hope you'll keep their deaths slow. With such long lives, haven't they earned long deaths? Surely your mistress has."

"I would not be worthy of her if I offered only stingy tribute. They shall taste eternity in their final moments!"

"If you are so worthy, why don't you go find my hammer and bring it here?" Thor sneered in a way Loki remembered from their boyhood and had not heard in a long time.

"Silence!" Thanos snapped. "Thanos has no need for your toys. The Cosmic Cube outstrips all other sorcery." 

Thor stared at him in defiance and more than a little contempt. Words had passed between them, Loki realized. Thanos had spoken to Thor since the last time Loki had seen them. Thanos must have come to whatever dungeon he was keeping Thor in and talked about – about what, he could only imagine, and could hardly ask. It discomfited him to be so in the dark, with stealthy goings-on proceeding behind his back. He could only hope Thor knew what he was doing. Thanos was more smooth-spoken than he looked; as Loki had experienced himself in circumstances not without their similarities to the present. 

"We begin!" Thanos roared. "Lady Death, attend me! Witness as I, Thanos, put an end to the blasphemy of life! Even gods realize that they are but quivering flesh in the face of our glory. We are the king and queen of all eternity!"

The words echoed. The Tesseract pulsed. A fourth figure appeared to join them, standing before the throne as one condemned. 

It was Sif. Thor surged against his chains with a wordless roar that blended all too harmoniously with Thanos' laughter. Mortality and imprisonment had not been kind to Sif. She was unkempt and wild and thinner than Loki remembered. Yet despite her uncouth appearance, she did not spring at Thanos or run or so much as tremble. 

"You live," she called to Thor. "I hadn't dared hope I might lay eyes on you again." 

"Sif!" Thor's mouth worked; her name was all he spoke. What more could he say? 

Sif addressed Thanos. "You have done me a favor, usurper."

"Then you must return it," Thanos rasped in reply. 

"Sif," Thor cried again. And then: "Loki!" His voice had a pleading note. 

"Look not to the betrayer!" Sif said. "I'll take no help from him." Disdain was stamped on every inch of her. Haughty Sif, she had always looked down on him. Her sneer carried a sting even now. She had always loved Thor and tolerated Loki with only the most cursory attempt at civility. 

Still, the sting was distant. He was too numb to feel more than a shadow of it and too sick of death to take any pleasure in hers. He made a mask of his face and hid far behind it the nausea that had been growing him since Jane left and the weight of guilt he could not show to anyone. It was the mask of Loki that slunk to Thanos' side and whispered in his ear. 

"She styled herself goddess of war, once upon a time," he murmured, letting poison sour the words. "An arrogant girl who thought herself not just a warrior, but the very embodiment of war. Let her fight your army and see how great a warrior she is now."

So Thanos grinned with malice and called his Chitauri in a hoarse bellow that made the city shiver. They came in great numbers at his call and gathered around her, division upon division, a horde, a swarm. Their eyes buried among the insect ridges of their faces glowed blue. Thanos could have commanded them without the Tesseract, but through it his control was absolute: it was his hand that would strike down Sif, he who would take the credit for her death.

She stood alone in the noise of the hive: the engine cough of the fliers, the whisper of antenna that linked mind to mind. They arrayed themselves around her on the ground and in the air; she waited in an arena made of the bodies of her executioners. They may as well have been insects in truth. She had eyes for none but Thor. 

There it was: the blood of Asgard, noble to its core, never faltering, never defeated. The air scoured Loki's throat when he took a breath.

"I wish you glorious battle, Sif!" he called. He hesitated for a moment, calculated, and then gambled, reckless. He threw her his spear. "A long death it shall be! The halls will surely ring with songs of you for years to come."

She took it as the mockery it sounded like. With a spear in her hand she looked more her old self, stronger and more dignified, and behind his mask, Loki was glad.

Spear or not, she had only a fraction of her former power; but the Chitauri, too, were mortal and no stronger than a human. She fought long and slew many. The many more that remained made slow work of their own killing. Thanos was well pleased. 

When she was dead, Thanos had him condemn another and then another, summoning them with the Tesseract like dishes at a banquet. Magni. Fulla. Vitharr. Hoenir. Every one of them looked at him with hatred shining in their eyes before they died. They cursed him and jeered him with their last breaths, far above Thanos, who had only conquered and not betrayed them. 

Most had never looked at him with love in the first place, of course. Yet the ruin he meted out to them brought him no joy. Their hatred and curses touched nothing in him; but each death seemed to weigh on an invisible scale, each stilled heart inscribed a black mark on his own that he knew he might scrub at until he bled without fading it. He lurked at the side of his monster and watched its handiwork and felt every act of Thanos to be his own. 

All the rage he had nursed against Asgard for slighting him, all the bitter detritus of centuries of wounded pride burned away beneath the stars, made obsolete by death. He felt as if the roots of some twisted tree had grown around him and through him for so long and so slowly that he had not noticed how it happened, and their merciless grip had strangled and warped him so that he became a malformed thing. Now they crumbled to ash in the heat of the Tesseract's pitiless light and he was bereft of his old companions of anger and spite. He was empty and bare, gray and quiet inside as the forest after a fire; but he could see, and breathe, as he never had before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains: minor character death


	26. A Talented Liar

The performance continued night after night, and Loki played his part in it with no little skill. Without magic, he yet created a greater illusion than ever before. It was an illusion of himself, a duplicate: another Loki, an evil, skulking reflection of himself from whose lips poured grotesque and ingenious tortures. With each night the illusion of Loki grew more hideous and cruel, more alien and unlike him. He detested it, and yet it overshadowed him, growing in stature until he almost felt that it was the illusion that lived and he who was the trick, a vestigial sleight-of-hand pretending to be a man. 

Time sped. Thanos grew occasionally sulky at Death's continued absence, Thor grew silent and sharp-eyed, the false Loki grew falser, and the scale that measured the real Loki's guilt grew heavier. The dead passed before him one by one. The people of Asgard dwindled.

Only in the observatory with Jane, or when he was waiting for her, or lingering after she had gone did he feel real. Only there did no one's eyes fixate on him, accusing _monster murderer traitor_ and he could leave his guilt, the ever-growing weight, for a few minutes beyond the door. Though here, too, he was only exchanging one lie for another, this one was but a few steps from the truth. He hoarded the moments he spent in the observatory even as the fear that Thanos would find them and discover Jane hovered unspoken just over his shoulder. For if Thanos killed Jane, he would be truly lost. 

For her part, Jane immersed herself in the work. He watched everything she did. He learned the dull names humans gave to things: motherboard, transformer, processor, containment ring, beam stabilizer. When she asked about Thor, he told her his brother lived, and when she asked about Thanos, he told her the killing had not yet begun, that Thanos was planning his massacre all in advance like a grand parade. As the days passed, he wondered that she continued to accept his story, but she gave no obvious sign of suspicion. 

She grew more intense by the day, becoming a fine-honed tool herself. He hadn't witnessed before the fierceness of her will, how it drove her to work without rest. Thor must have seen it. Maybe Thor had seen it from the very start. He watched her closely, wondering what else he had overlooked.

"We're getting somewhere with the remote activation system," she told him one day, "but I don't want to risk using it without a test. We'll be incredibly screwed if we go ahead with the plan and the machine doesn't work. I have to try to access the Tesseract."

They were sitting on the floor, finishing smelting some small parts together. The frame of the machine rose above them to twice his height, but its inner components were not yet in place. The part of it Loki wanted, the part that commanded the portal, was still missing.

"It's too dangerous," he said. "Thanos couldn't help but notice. You'll alert him to what we're doing."

"I know it's risky, but everything we're doing is risky. I have to at least try to detect the thing. For all we know the machine could be a complete dud."

"The Tesseract is entwined with Thanos' will. You can't possibly interact with it without him knowing."

She changed the subject, but didn't look convinced. Worry gnawed at him. If she was determined to test her detection mechanism, she might not work on the rest of the machine until she'd done so. Surely Jane wouldn't be reckless enough to waste time when they had so little of it? 

It turned out she was even more reckless than he'd thought. The following day Loki woke from where he'd drifted into a doze beside the star basin to find that a new load of components had been left on the table, but Jane was nowhere to be seen and a section of the half-built machine was missing with her. It was a piece right from its heart: the box intended to locate the Tesseract's energy signature.

He was out the door in seconds. The hallway was deserted, and the stairs, and all the other hallways and stairs and chambers he passed. He slid to a halt. Where would she go?

She'd taken the detection unit. Could Jane be such a fool as to interfere with the Tesseract after what he'd told her? Why had she left the observatory? Perhaps she thought she needed to be closer. Closer to Thanos. The thought lit him up with new urgency. Where would Jane think to go if she wanted to get closer to Thanos? He'd told her nothing of the courtyard or any details of his interactions with the new ruler of Asgard. 

The Chitauri ships. It made the most sense. Thanos had brought them, he must have been on one of them at some point. That was how Jane would think. 

Loki ran. Palace, gardens, streets passed in a blur. He hoped none of the buildings housed contingents of watching Chitauri. The starships, crowding the sky where it faded to black, loomed closer. He hoped the Norns pitied him and had not let her be captured or seen.

He caught her at the seashore. Bright jetties, broad as boulevards and thin as beaten gold, curved in intersecting crescents to form a harbor. Below them the waves played in the shallows and inlets of the coastline. This was there they launched funeral ships. How fitting of Thanos. The Chitauri hives blackened the sky overhead; the water roiled as a leviathan darkened the water just below the surface as if in answer. Jane stood at the water's edge, pointing a square object at the starships. 

He grabbed her and half-dragged, half-carried her away from the shoreline. 

"Hey!" She wrenched out of his grip. 

"Have you lost your senses?" he sputtered. They stood exposed on the deserted wharf. Something could spot them any moment. "If even one Chitauri sees you, Thanos will know of your presence! And if you've spied on the Tesseract, he'll know that, too. What do you think you're doing?"

"I heard you the last time. I wasn't looking for the Tesseract. But I have to test the machine on _something_. I thought I might be able to detect energy residue if I got close to where it's been."

She had a power unit wedged onto her shoulder, connected to the device in her hands by a rope of wires. Tiny lights blinked on the box. It was a patchwork of Asgardian and Midgardian technology: a frame and skeleton of human making, with pieces of the Eye of Nótt built into it. 

"And did it work?"

"Yes!" She was grinning. "It works! It _works._ See?" She raised the box with its mysterious pattern of blinking lights at him, expectant. 

"Of course," he said dryly.

"If it can detect the residue, it can detect the real thing. This means we're halfway there!"

"Glad news. That means there's no further reason to linger here directly under our enemies' noses!"

He pulled at her arm. She resisted.

"What is it?" he asked. Curse the woman's obstinacy. If she got herself caught he would kill her himself.

She bit her lip. "Thor is probably on one of those ships, isn't he?"

No doubt she had some wild fancy of rescue. If Loki had had his magic, he could do it himself. He could slip through the hives unseen and spirit away the prize captive before anyone knew better. How gratifying that would be, to tweak Thanos' nose and have Thor in his debt in one stroke. Which was no doubt why Thanos would never give him his power back. 

"Possibly," he said. "Or in a prison cell. Or in a timeless void conjured by the Tesseract. We have no way of knowing. And going into those ships would be certain death, so I'd suggest you forget about the idea."

"Maybe I could disguise myself somehow. Or – or bribe a guard." Not only had she thought of it, she'd thought of doing it _alone_? "I wouldn't tell them about you. If they caught me, I mean."

"I know," he said, distracted. Three glittering specks had detached from one of the ships. 

Asgard's streets weren't made for hiding. They were broad and unshadowed; during the day, every inch of the city shone. Including the jetty on which they stood. He and Jane must look stark as drops of ink on paper. 

"Speaking of being caught," he said. 

Her head snapped up. He took the opportunity to snatch the power unit, wires, and blinking box from her and haul the both of them off the walkway and into the darkness beneath the jetty.

The water was cool. He grabbed onto the strut running along the bottom of the walkway, balancing Jane's electronics in one hand over his head. Waves slapped and sucked at him. Jane went under and came back up, spluttering.

"What the – "

"Quiet."

She reached up and grabbed the strut next to him. The whoosh of the fliers passed far above on the other side of the golden plates above their heads. They cowered in the shade beneath the jetty, silent. 

"Do _not_ get that wet," Jane hissed. 

"I know."

"Seriously, you'll ruin it. I'll have to rebuild the whole thing"

"I know. Water shorts out the circuits."

She looked dumbfounded. 

"I _have_ been listening."

"We need to get the equipment away from the water!" 

It was too deep to stand. He maneuvered awkwardly, trying to find a way to hold on to the strut and keep the detection unit above the surface at the same time. 

"Here," Jane said. She slid close, hoisting herself partway out of the water. Her wet hair trailed on either side of her face like seaweed. She took the power unit and arranged it with the broad notch in the middle on his shoulder, the same way she'd been carrying it before. Then she looped the wires around his neck and let the box with the lights hang from them. He must look ridiculous. 

"I'm to be the beast of burden?"

"Don't complain. You're taller."

"Are you satisfied? Can we get out of here now?"

Mere feet away, the water churned. Black metal and dark green flesh broke the surface. The long flank of a leviathan slid past, taking its leisure in the seas of Asgard. It passed by for what felt like hours. Raised by its sweep, a wave roiled towards them. 

Instinct made them cringe away from it. They clung to the bottom of the walkway. Jane thrust herself into the path of the wave, doggedly protecting her child of metal and wire. This had the effect of preventing the machinery from getting wet, but capsizing Jane. The wave swamped her; Loki grabbed for her with his newly free hand, slipping it around her waist and anchoring her to him. She gripped the front of his tunic, anxious eyes fixed on her precious instrument. 

Her gaze jumped to his and stopped, paralyzed. Both of them were panting. 

"Can those things see? Did it see us?"

"Yes. I don't know." Her soaked shirt had ridden up; his fingers imprinted the bare skin of her hip. "You shouldn't have run off without me. Do you think this a game? You may have just killed us." Thanos would kill her. This warm body in his arms would be dead. 

"I had to test the detector," she said. "I knew you weren't going to change your mind about it."

"I could at least have gotten you here without being seen! I was raised here, Jane, I know every inch of the city."

She didn't reply. Her eyes, dark and opaque, asked a question he couldn't decipher. She swallowed. 

"Let's get out of here," she said. "You can yell at me some more when we're not ten feet away from an army of spaceships."

He released her. "We can follow the inlet towards the palace. It grows shallow soon. The jetties and bridges will shield us for part of the distance." It was a game for children, to swim in the inlets of the Encircling Sea. He remembered the loops and quirks of the shoreline with perfect clarity. 

The sun had crossed the sky by the time they made it back to the observatory, bedraggled and taut with nerves. 

"I hope that little escapade was worth it," Loki said, casting off his dripping overcoat. The gilded leather of his greaves fairly groaned with saltwater. Ruined. The rest of his clothes clung uncomfortably. If he had his magic he could dry them in a second. 

As if in defiance of Loki's frayed temper, Jane's spirits seemed to soar to the heavens. "It's working!" she exclaimed, busy at the table. "It's still working, thank god."

"You're welcome."

"Not you." She fiddled with the machinery, shedding seawater in a halo that miraculously avoided drenching anything electrical. "This is fantastic. Tomorrow I'll install the coordinate programming system for the portal. That only leaves the command transmission system, and I should be able to adapt it from Erik's original schematics." 

She sounded hopeful. _Truly_ hopeful. She believed they could do this. The assurance written on her face stabbed at the raw place she'd torn inside him, like a lip that had been chewed until it split. If she knew what he was going to do with her beloved invention, her eyes, too, would turn accusing.

"What's wrong?" she said. Her hands had stilled. She watched him, a line appearing between her brows. 

"You must show me how to operate the system that controls the portal's coordinates," he deflected. 

"What for? It's not going to make any difference. The coordinates will already be set before we start."

Always questions. He affected a light tone. "I hate being left in the dark."

"You're a pretty big fan of scientific knowledge suddenly."

"It's a second-rate weapon, but better than none."

There was a moment of silence. Jane leaned back against the table, her fingers unconsciously tracing its edges. "Some of the team think you're not being entirely honest with us."

There it was. Suspicion. Hatred. Creeping in all the way from Midgard. If only he could shut it all out. Or at least stop the _Avengers_ – or, more likely, Selvig – from poisoning Jane against him. He set himself to soothing her doubts; he needed her trust. He must sound reasonable, not defensive. 

"How would they know? And what exactly am I meant to be deceiving you about?"

"Well, just based on things you've said."

"You've been reporting back to them?" He found that he felt betrayed. 

"You make it sound like I'm the untrustworthy one." She succeeded in looking down on him from her small height. He didn't like it. 

"You're watching me," he said. "For what? A relapse? Are you afraid I'll betray you or are you hoping I will?" The words were perhaps more waspish than they ought to be. He spoke more softly. "I have no reason to lie to you, Jane. You know that."

"No reason that I know of. I _want_ to be able to trust you, Loki."

"You already know you can trust me when it comes to Thanos."

She didn't reply. She looked through him, her frown deepening, her arms folding as if to protect herself. It occurred to him that she'd meant the wish in a general sense. She wanted to trust him. She was thinking about it, or him. If he could just lead her a little further down that path...

"Don't you?" he said. 

Her gazed snapped into focus. He found himself staring at naked confusion in her eyes. He'd studied her expressions so well that the thought in her mind jumped out at him as if she'd spoken it aloud. It wasn't Thanos she was thinking of. It was the question he'd not quite been able to read from her face when they were in the water.

_Are we friends?_

He could see with a suddenly cold and objective eye how far he had allowed himself to be lulled, how he'd tried to burrow into this closest thing to a refuge. How little it would take to relax that small distance more. Words brimmed on his tongue: uncalculated ones. He'd no idea what he was about to say. 

He turned sharply away. At each beat of his heart, the wounded place inside him bled. His feet carried him, with a sorry pretense of carelessness, around the basin. Drops of the water shaking itself off him sent ripples skimming across its surface. The reflected stars bent and distorted. 

"And what does the team think I'm not being entirely honest about?"

He felt her come close behind his back. The water at his feet remained empty of their images.

"Well, Thanos, for one. What is he doing? What's he waiting for? And how do you know... how do you know Thor is alive?" 

"I told you – "

"Yeah, I remember what you said." Her voice was near; if he turned, he could touch her. "It's just not that convincing. Does he really need this much time to plan his death pageant? It's been almost two weeks. Why is he just hanging out with you and Thor every day?"

Of course she hadn't been stupid enough to accept his story. He should never have been so complacent, he should've been thinking of new things to tell her. He scrambled for something to muzzle her suspicions, but all the twists and turns of the last weeks had exhausted his ingenuity. 

"What, are you disappointed?" he said, knowing it was the wrong thing to say. "Shall I tell him to hasten his murderous designs so that you find it more convincing? Perhaps you'd prefer news of Thor's death."

She was silent. He heard her take a slow breath. He could imagine her jaw firming, her eyes blinking back anger. 

"That's not going to work, you can't just throw me off the scent by being mean. I'm not afraid of you anymore."

Frustration bled through the cracks in his composure. He hurled the dripping greaves into the water. The splash sounded loud. He had too little control, too little power; she was plucking at the layers of his illusions and soon she would peel them away – or Thanos would – or Thor –

Jane was silent for only a moment at his outburst. "Fine. I'll just go then. Wouldn't want to get between Loki and his secrets."

Would she truly leave him here? _Alone._ He heard feet shift and reacted without thought.

He whirled and caught her retreating arm. The space between them seemed to have vanished. His hands curled around the curve of her jaw: only inches away, her life's blood thrummed in the dark beneath her skin. She froze, her big brown eyes widening in surprise. She thought he meant to kiss her. He wanted to. He let his thumbs brush along her skin to her lips. His heart hammered; the sea rushed in his ears. He bent, his breath ghosting along her cheek, her neck. She smelled of sweat and salt and summer in Asgard. 

"Loki," she choked. Her fingers were on his wrists, moving, unsettled. 

"Care for a secret, Jane?" he murmured in her ear. He didn't know what he was going to say, but when the words came they didn't surprise him. They flowed with a will of their own. "Thanos waits for nothing. He's been merrily dispatching my countrymen off to Hel all the while that you and I have been dallying about with our feeble weapon. And I've been helping him. Or rather, pretending very convincingly to help him. He asked for my expertise in creating a perfect end for each of them. That's the meaning of Ragnarok, Jane. He's putting an end to the gods. And I have been at his right hand, wearing the crown of Odin and sending Asgardians one by one to their spectacular and exceedingly slow deaths. I've bought you the time to build your machine with their blood." 

Her hands clawed at his forearms; he hardly noticed. The poison in him came retching up and overflowed and he poured it into her ear, all of his revulsion and useless guilt. 

"How do you like this honesty, Jane? Would you like to hear more? Shall I tell you how he killed Fandral, on my suggestion? Shall I describe how the lovely Lady Sif looked with her entrails gaping at the sky? Shall I tell you what ideas I am pondering to offer Thanos for his next sacrifice?" Understand, understand what you are asking, he stopped himself from saying. Understand how ugly the truth is. 

He pulled back to look at her. The horror he'd expected to see frosted her face. And there was pity – so much pity – perhaps some of it was even for him. It was ever his fate to be pitied by Jane Foster. 

"Are you satisfied?" he asked. 

"I suppose that makes a lot more sense," she said. Her voice was slow and hoarse and her gaze didn't waver. "It should've been obvious. I just didn't want to think about it."

"You were hoping I'd invent a prettier lie for you? I'm afraid I'm not at my best."

"What about Thor? Please tell me it wasn't a lie that he's still alive."

"Thor's time hasn't come yet. But it will. He's the heir to the throne, and well-beloved. Thanos wants to garland his prize bull's neck before he leads him to the slaughter."

"But if you've been there the whole time... then when Thanos tries to kill Thor – "

"No doubt he'll force me to choose how my brother meets his death." Thanos would think he was doing Loki a favor. He'd not allowed himself to contemplate that possibility in any detail. The plan had to be put into action before Thor's turn came.

Jane swallowed. This was the end of it; her eyes would fill with that same betrayal and hatred as shone in those of all his former people. He'd thought he was beyond being wounded by it.

"You hate it, don't you?" she said. Unbelievably, she laughed: a dry, bitter convulsion. "Here you are. King of Asgard. Getting the worst kind of revenge. And you hate it. I definitely didn't see that coming."

"This was never what I wanted."

"What did you want?"

What had he dreamed in that long fall through the void? Visions of crowns and thrones and all who'd wronged him kneeling before him? Visions of taking his rightful place – of _having_ a rightful place – with blood and vengeance? Reality made a mockery of those visions. He'd dreamed of Thor, and of men and women looking at him as they did at Thor; and that had not become any sort of reality, and never would. 

"Never _this_ ," he said. 

"How many people are left? How many can we still save?"

He couldn't tell her that he hoped to undo Thanos' work by mastering the Tesseract, not without revealing his real plan. This last secret hung from his lips like a drop of water about to fall. He bit it back. Not this one; he couldn't let her pry it out of him. She wouldn't go along with the real plan no matter how much he'd made her feel the horror of what Thanos had done. 

"Not many, Jane." In the beginning, he had counted, each name engraven in his memory in letters of fire. But the nights had seemed to grow longer and Thanos more vicious and one death had bled into another until he could not always remember how many they had killed between dusk and dawn. Asgard was small. Time had passed. Few of its people must be remaining by now. He clung to his hope, the faint hope that he might resurrect them all by the power of the Tesseract. For Jane, though, he needed a different reason. "But even if he kills them all, we can't stop. He'll only move on to some other realm and inflict the same destruction there. He's done it countless times before."

She was shaking her head within the confines of his hands. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry. Thor – does he have any idea what's going on? Does he know you're... pretending?"

The hook buried inside him wrenched. She was still looking at him, but in truth it wasn't Loki she saw. Always her thoughts circled back to his brother. In her eyes he imagined he glimpsed reflected, not his own image, but that of Thor, bright and bold and strong as the sun, outshining him even without being present.

"I don't know," he said. 

"Are you sure? Isn't there some way you can communicate – "

He couldn't bear to hear any more about Thor. Not now. He kissed her in mid-word. He shut his eyes to blot out Thor's reflection and tangled his hands in her sea-damp hair. He felt her gasp. In the rush of skin touching skin, of the heat of her mouth and the solid closeness of her body, the guilt and fear and the sharp pain of the wound she had caused in him receded. The clamor of his living flesh drowned out his mind and its endless whirling. He reveled in the softness of her lips; he dragged his hands along her face and traced his thumbs along the curve of her mouth. 

The observatory moved around them. No, he moved, and Jane moved with him: backwards step by step, and he kissed her for every step until she came up against the table. 

Only for a moment. She tore herself away, turning to put her shoulder between them like a shield. She was taking deep gulps of air. He expected some loud disavowal; maybe she would slap him. But she said nothing, nothing at all. The air between them was a living thing, twisting and sparking. The hook in him jerked, but he didn't close the distance. 

"You never told him," he said.

She knew, of course, what he meant. She'd never told Thor about the other kiss, the time she'd kissed him first. He'd thought of that more often even than of the kiss itself: the fact that she'd kept it a secret. People didn't conceal things that meant nothing to them. 

"I just didn't see the point," she said, pressing the heel of her hand to her temple. "Aliens were invading Earth and other aliens were probably invading Asgard, too, and the only good thing I had going for me was Thor. It just seemed stupid to take any risk of messing it up. We had so many problems already."

"Is that what this is? A 'problem'?"

She blinked and looked away. "I don't know what this is. I don't know how this happened." She took another deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair. "You're not who you were supposed to be." Then she looked up at him with serious eyes. "I haven't forgotten, you know. You never would've given me a second look if Thor hadn't fallen in love me. Except to kill me. I would've been just another lowly mortal to you."

He couldn't deny it. The first string that had tied him to her was Thor. Only now there were so many others. A bargain on Midgard, a bargain on Jotunheim, and a bargain on Asgard, and somewhere in between he had given himself away. 

An echo resonated in his memory. Thor. "Maybe I've changed."

But he knew, even before her look of surprise, that it was too late. He knew from long experience that Thor always took the first rank in everyone's affections, and Loki was a distant second. Why should Jane be any different? She was here to help Thor, not to help him. Any moment now she would leave him to run back to her friends on Midgard.

He drew away and leaned against the table next to her. They watched the ripples still spreading in the basin of stars. 

"Don't go," he said in spite of his pride. "The silence here is maddening. This whole world is dead."

Her shoulders relaxed; her palms came to rest on the table's edge. "All right," she said after a moment. "I'll stay. But whatever _this_ is, I can't deal with it right now. Not when the world is ending. It's going to work, Loki. I'm going to make it work. We're going to take the Tesseract from Thanos. We're going to kill him. And then..."

Her bravura foundered in the murky currents of the future. How many would still live? What would they be saving? 

"I have to get back to work," Jane said. "Right now. I'm not going to stop until it's done. I have to finish before – "

Before Thor's turn came.

"You can't tell the others," Loki said. "They'll never believe I'm not on Thanos' side."

"I know," she said, "I won't. I'll have to make up something else to tell them instead." 

The faintest rueful smile pulled at his lips that still tasted of her. She was going to lie to her friends for him. Somehow that gave him just as much pleasure as if she had kissed him back.


	27. More Dearly

Whatever Jane told the Avengers, it worked. She came back the next day with a new bag of parts and laid them all out on the table in a jumble among the scrying bowls. Loki's nerves were raw from another night with Thanos, but the line of solid metal pieces shining in the sun steadied him. This would all end soon, one way or another. She went through each component she'd brought from Earth and told him what it was and he had it, he had it within his grasp at last: the instrument of Thanos' destruction. 

"The coordinate controller," she said. She set it on the table. It was a broad ring of steel and glass, thick and ornate, though not, he knew, for decorative reasons. Every groove and pin had a purpose. A series of silver rods extended from the edge to attach it to the rest of the machine and a faint glow spilled from the interior of the ring through gaps in the metalwork. The Tesseract's power would pass through the circle and be channeled to wherever the wielder desired. 

"This controls where the portal opens?" he said. 

"Yep. You wanted to know how I programmed it." 

"I should understand how the primary systems work. In case something goes wrong and you're not able to fix it."

"A crash course isn't going to be much help with this level of tech. It has to be programmed by computer anyway."

"Yes, but don't you relish the opportunity to explain how things work to me for once?"

She snorted. "It is nice not to be called a pathetic mortal every five minutes."

"I've seen the error of my ways. You're an exceptional mortal."

"Well, we're both mortals now."

"For the time being. Once Asgard is rid of Thanos, all here will return to its natural state. Including me." 

"And you'll be a god again." She tilted her head in thought. They'd opened some of the windows against the heat and the breeze stirred her hair. "What will you do... afterwards? Hopefully not go back to calling me names."

Assuming they survived. He mused for a moment, idle fingertips tracing the tabletop. "I won't be able to stay here. No one who could still lift a weapon would tolerate it. They see me as the traitor who led Thanos to Asgard." How could he blame them? Thanos had orchestrated a damning theater. He felt like he'd been split in pieces, a rotten piece of wood splintering poorly under the ax. He could not even hate back those who hated him, for he had given them cause enough. "Any Asgardian will kill me on sight. Any who still live, that is." 

Needless to say, no one would believe the truth.

"I could tell them what really happened," Jane said. "Thor will listen to me. He'll know I'd have no reason to make it up."

"You'd plead for my stay of execution?" Why was he surprised? Was he surprised? A heat sparked in his ribcage. She'd said nothing more about the kiss, neither good nor ill. He'd thought revealing his secret would break the tension that had seemed to grow and grow with each passing day, break it into irreparable pieces perhaps; but instead it was as if he'd opened a doorway a crack and a host of unseen bodies leaned against it, pushing to get out. The air was heavy with words not spoken. 

He thought of touching her, and didn't. 

"I'd just be telling the truth." She shrugged, not meeting his eyes. "You didn't betray Asgard to Thanos. Telling the truth would be the right thing to do."

No. He was no traitor any more than he'd been a usurper. No one had believed that, either. His actions had brought ruin all the same. Even now he gambled perilously with all their lives. No, they would never forgive him. And it would do Jane no favors to try to save him. 

"Perhaps you'd do better to save your breath," he said. "You will only taint yourself with my name."

"Are you just going to keep running?" She turned the ring over and over in her hands, eyes unseeing. 

"What would you have me do?" A small part of him hoped that she might actually have an answer. Her mind worked in oblique ways at times. She might have an idea that escaped him. She might, a soft voice that shamed him whispered in his mind, want to go with him. 

Idle dreaming. She loved Thor, and her Earth. 

"I wish I could fix this," she said. "It's not fair."

"Thank you," he replied gently. "But you need only fix the machine."

She seemed to become aware of the object in her hands again and gave a little laugh. "Right. The coordinate controller. The coordinates have to be programmed by computer, which I've already done. You can't do it by hand here, so if something goes wrong, we're pretty much screwed. The only thing you can do is wipe the settings entirely by shorting the system. Then you'll end up with a random set of coordinates."

She went around the table to the hulking mass of her machine. He followed and they bent under the beam stabilizer into the open space where the Tesseract had once sat. 

"It's somewhat similar to my teleporter, actually." She took the chain from around her neck and hung it onto the frame of the machine, then propped the coordinate ring next to it. "See how this dial looks similar?" The teleporter and the ring both had eight sides and glowed with the same pale light. "There's a junction under this edge here. If you disconnect it, it will wipe the computers and you'll end up with a random set of coordinates and a portal – "

"To anywhere," he finished. "Useless, in other words." Perfect. 

"Exactly. So we have to make sure it stays intact. I mean, if – when Thanos notices someone's trying to take his toy away. Do you think he'll be able to tell where the new signal's coming from?"

"Likely so. Hopefully by then it will be too late."

"If he finds us and destroys the machine before the army gets through, this will all be for nothing. Do you think you could distract him somehow?"

It didn't matter what he told her. He had the ring; as soon as Jane left today, he could set his true plan into motion. Still, he had to give some reply. 

"Thanos is single-minded," he said, "but not infallible. I'll think of something."

She leaned against the frame, at home amongst her angles and wires. "What is he like? Thanos."

What was Thanos like? "You saw him," Loki said. "In the mirror in Gastropnir. How did he strike you?"

"I mostly remember the extreme terror."

"Yes. He is very terrible. And very alone." The only one of his kind remaining, perhaps. Thanos had seen to that himself. His tale was monumental in its horror, but it contained a grain of pathos, too. If you could look past your fear long enough to see it.

"Why did you ever make a deal with someone like that?"

He was restless with her so close, so familiar and comfortable that she was emboldened to ask him over-intimate questions. He turned his back and paced away from her. The pool of stars spread out before him. 

"I was alone, too. I needed allies." On the far side of the void, in that quagmire of unknown and shifting powers, he'd cast his lot with the greatest power of them all. No one, of course, loved Thanos. Many followed him anyway. Thanos drew the desperate and lost to him, a black hole of anger and pain around which lesser wretches orbited. Like Loki. "But in truth," he said, not without difficulty, over his shoulder, "it was he who chose me. He must have known soon after meeting me how well Asgard would suit his purposes." Outside, the afternoon was growing late. The sunlight slanted, reaching out for the pool of night at his feet. 

There was no reply from behind him. A superstitious shiver ran down his spine. He spun just as Thanos' voice said, "So here is your lair."

Behind Loki's back, his hands gripped each other hard, so hard he could almost feel his fingers crack. His face remained perfectly smooth. His voice was cool, with a touch of petulance. "It has a superior view, don't you think? One can see the whole of the kingdom. A better sight for a king than a narrow little throne room."

Jane was not there. Her teleporter still hung, winking silver, from the machine. She had not gone, but she wasn't here, she was not here –

"Have you come to summon me?" he asked carelessly. She must be hiding, hiding behind the table, or the frame, or among the cabinets. He must stop Thanos from looking –

Thanos could not be stopped. He was looking about him, examining the observatory, taking its measure. "A strange thing came to pass yesterday. I felt something brush the mind of the Cosmic Cube. Surely no device or being on this world save I can touch her. Yet it seemed to me something tried. Did I dream?"

Jane, Jane, foolhardy Jane. "Why, you are matchless. Nothing could take the Cube from you. Perhaps she herself was playing a trick on you."

"She can be a trickster. Like you. I wondered where you lurk during the day. But this, this." He raised his arms to indicate the contents of the room. He walked heedlessly around the table, his murderous twinkling eyes taking in the tall shelves, the instruments scattered hither-thither, the elaborate interlocking cabinets, all the odds and ends of Asgard. His eyes slid over Jane's machine as just another unknown tool among many.

Jane did not appear anywhere. Loki's heart stuttered a sharp and irregular beat. 

"There are many objects of sorcery here," Thanos said. "Yet not much used. What a wasteful people."

"Not any longer," Loki replied. A ringing in his ears grew louder every second. She was gone. She wasn't here.

"Yes. I have nearly used them all up. And still she does not come."

For a moment, Loki thought he meant Jane. He found he could not breathe. But no, _of course_ , it was Death Thanos meant. He had come to complain of his lover's coldness. Loki recognized the signs of an oncoming rant. Whenever one of Thanos' elaborate tributes failed to win Death's favor, he grew sulky and resolute by turns until he exploded in a temper that usually left everyone in the vicinity dead. 

"After everything – _everything_ – I have given her!" Thanos veritably gnashed his teeth. One massive paw clutched the Tesseract around his neck. The light throbbed in unsteady swells. 

He had to get rid of Thanos. The teleporter revolving slowly on its chain mocked him. 

"Evidently it is not yet enough," he said. 

"It is never enough!" Thanos erupted, rage unfolding from the seed of despair. 

"I may have an idea," Loki said, grasping at the only thing he could think of. It felt as if someone else was speaking with his voice, someone calm and certain: his twin, his lie, the eager illusion of Loki that worked at Thanos' side. "I may have discovered something that will draw Lady Death's eye at last."

"Ah," Thanos exhaled. "You are full of schemes, Loki. I knew you would be useful." He made no attempt to conceal his condescension. "Tell me your design and I will bring it into being." 

"Give me another day so that I can be certain. Summon me tomorrow evening and I will bring you a ready plan."

"Tomorrow?" Thanos said. Amusement and impatience lived side by side in his voice. "Very well. Tomorrow it shall be. Bring me a plan that wins my lady to me, Loki, and your service to me will be complete. I, Thanos, command it!" 

And with that, he was gone.

Complete silence fell. Loki sprang to life. His hands fumbled through the shelves, sending rods and powders and glass vials crashing to the ground. Perhaps there was a space – a trap door – 

He knew this room intimately. There was no trap door. 

He ran around the observatory, turning, trying to take in every corner. He thrust his hands into the water of the basin. The stars jumped and wavered at the disturbance. No Jane. 

Thanos had killed her. Perhaps Thanos had known about her all along. Thanos had waited for his moment and dissolved her into dust while Loki's back was turned and then said nothing, had simply gone on as usual, all the while laughing, laughing at his hideous private joke, _oh you thought you had one over on me, trickster._ He had killed Jane and he would never mention it. They would go on speaking to each other with false civility and all the while they would both know, but Loki would be mute, muzzled, unable to say a word, and he would see that cruel joke in Thanos' eyes forever. 

He seized the teleporter. It spun in his numb fingers. Jane. _Jane._

A noise from the window pierced the fog in his head. It was a species of... scratch or shuffle.

He dropped the teleporter with a dull thud. The window was open.

Three steps took him there. He thrust back the glass and leaned out.

She was on the narrow edge of the window sill where it protruded past the glass and along the wall. She had pressed herself against the unforgiving smooth shine of the wall, her fingers bent into claws around the window frame. The wind tore and plucked at her clothes and her long, streaming hair; and her eyes were fixed, wide and horrified, at that long, long fall beneath her.

Her head turned. Her face was death-white, her eyes staring. "Loki – " she choked. 

He grabbed for her. He clutched at her, threading his arm around her, locking her against him and pulling her away from the gaping precipice. She clung to him.

He stumbled backwards into the room. The world seemed to be spinning. Jane's arms were hard against his neck, her cold cheek pressed to his jaw. He felt her breathing in hot pants against his skin. 

His hips thudded against the table. Jane lifted her head. Her lips were parted; her breath ghosted over his mouth. He inhaled it, he tasted the proof that she was still alive on his tongue. 

She moved or he did or they both did. She kissed him with such famine that he was stunned. Her hands tightened painfully in his hair; he could feel them shaking still. A fire roared into life in him.

He pulled her hard to him, sliding his hand under her thighs. He pressed himself to her, chest to chest and hips to hips. 

The heat of her body radiated through her clothes. They were too many of them, too many useless layers. He thrust his other hand beneath them greedily, the shock of skin on skin burning through him, skin he had thought, maliciously, of touching in the past, skin that had been hidden from sight but that he always knew was there, for he had imagined his brother touching it, brooded on that image which seemed a symbol of something he didn't understand.

But this was nothing like his evil dreams had been. His hands ran of their own accord, gliding over her smooth back, palms blindly clinging to the contours of her stomach, her hips, pushing aside the odd undergarment that kept her breasts confined to press brashly against them. 

Jane moaned. The sound burned down his body. He was already hard; he could take her this moment. The way she was tearing at his shirt, her hands seeking his skin with a boldness she had never betrayed but in glimpses he was never sure he hadn't imagined – made him giddy.

He tried to spin, to set her onto the edge of the table, but instead he unbalanced and they tumbled, entwined, to the floor. Their teeth clicked painfully and he lost her lips. It didn't matter; he pulled her shirt over her head and she was with him, getting rid of the chestband along with it. He ran his hands all along her naked body, loving how she arched her back, how her mouth opened in pleasure. His need was so great it drowned out every other feeling – guilt and fear, loneliness and relief – there was only his body and hers and the irresistible draw between them. 

He wanted her stripped bare; he wanted to see her unprotected and unconcealed. He pulled her trousers over her hips, fingers dipping hungrily between her legs, and when he pushed them into her she cried out. Her muscles were tight around him, tight, hot, slick velvet. When he moved his hand just so her body curved like a silk ribbon in the wind. 

He had imagined her like this, panting and lustful for him. In those fantasies he had been in control; he'd been laughing, gloating, and she'd been helpless and he had always envisaged Thor somewhere, raging in bitter solitude at having something taken away from him. Now instead he wanted to forget who he was, to lose himself in her. He wanted to be what she made him. 

When he sank his cock into her he gasped aloud and, even through the heat inhabiting his body, felt his face flush. He'd always hated the weakness, the loss of control that came with fucking. Jane tried to wrap her arms around his back, but he took them and pinned them over her head, slipping his fingers through hers. Their fingertips touched the star-filled water in the pool and disturbed its serenity. The mirror's farseeing eye did not reflect them; it was as if they were not really here.

There was nothing artful in it, no skill, no leisure. It was pure impulse, pure feeling. He thrust, thrust into her, his hips jerking with an angry, mechanical rhythm. She turned her head towards him, her dark, hazed eyes watching his face. He could feel the life in her all through his body. _Jane._ Jane not dead, not destroyed by Thanos. White lightning crackled through his mind. He wanted to see her shudder, wanted to feel her convulse around him. 

He buried his mouth in the crook of her neck and whispered against her blazing skin, "Do you – like this – ?" The last word escaped him. 

She gave a cry and her body writhed under his. He reveled in it. She was so tight around him; her every quiver excited him. His final few thrusts made her gasp and at the whimper in her voice he lost his control, his hand clenching on hers, his mind going white. For a while, he was blessedly not himself. 

They were quiet for a time.

"Loki," Jane said.

He found he was still breathing into her neck. His half-removed garments were uncomfortable; a buckle was digging into his thigh. But she was warm and soft beneath him; she was flushed skin and shining, startled eyes like a doe's. He was aware of the rise and fall of her breasts, of another living being closer to him than anyone had been in longer than he could recall. Their fingers were still entwined. It was as if a summer storm had come upon them: a thing of minutes, but it drenched to the bone.

"I thought he'd killed you," Loki said.

"I thought I was going to fall," she whispered. Her lips brushed his hair. Then she said: "From the very first moment I saw you, back in that cell, I couldn't get you out of my head."

She pushed at his chest and he moved away, their bodies separating. She drew her clothing back on with quick fingers while he sat on his heels and watched. 

For once, he had no words ready. I'm sorry? Thor will never know? Leave him and come live a life fleeing from my many enemies with me? 

She finally looked at him. He had expected shame, but there was no hint of it on her face, only a kind of resignation. As if she was not surprised, but not happy, either. 

"It was only this one time," she said, and stood up. 

She was going to leave, he realized. He'd driven her off. He'd finally accomplished that. He could think of nothing to say that would make her stay, only things that would make her depart all the faster. 

"Will you tell him?" he asked, more because he wanted to hear her voice than because he wanted to know. 

She didn't need to be told who. "Yes. I won't keep any more secrets from him. Not this time. But we've got more important stuff to worry about right now. Everything – everything else has to take a backseat until this is over. I just need... some time. A day. I'll be back in a day."

She went to where her teleporter lay on the ground and picked it up. "I'll see you soon," she said over her shoulder, without emotion. She was going to leave; and it would be as if nothing had happened at all. He felt his heart twist. 

But she hesitated. The necklace hung limp from her hand. 

She whirled and took the two quick steps back to him. She bent down and kissed him, her hair falling in a curtain around their faces, her hand warm on his jaw. There was nothing apologetic or guilty about it; her mouth was firm, her lips clung to his with an intensity that made the heat in him flare again. He leaned into her with every instinct he possessed, not thinking, only taking what she offered. 

When she broke away, she said, "Thank you. I probably would've fallen if you hadn't pulled me back in."

"Jane – " He reached after her, but she was gone before he could finish. 

So he was left alone again. He went to the basin and splashed some of the water on his face. The stars did a wild dance. Inside him he still felt that now-familiar tug, but it no longer hurt. It was as if the hook had sunk so deep that flesh had grown back over it, and there was no more pain, only the ever-present pull. Towards Jane. He thought he finally understood what it meant. 

He sat and buried his head in his hands. Not so long ago he'd tried his utmost to destroy the bond between Thor and Jane. He had whispered calumnies about Thor into Jane's ear and insinuations into Thor's. It had embittered him that Thor should be always, effortlessly loved; it had infuriated him that Jane assumed she knew his brother – the new, changed version of his brother – better than he did. _That woman. Soft. Pay her a visit._ His own words echoed back to him. 

All of his manipulations had come to nothing. The trust Thor and Jane had built on a few months of what was barely more than an acquaintance compared to his own long history with Thor – even such a young trust had been too strong for his spite. And now he'd destroyed it in a few moments of sincerity. Everything he did had the opposite effect of what he wanted. 

Once he would have rejoiced. Instead he was sorry, bitterly sorry, for no remnant of a desire to harm either of them lingered in him. And yet he was not sorry, he was delirious with joy; he was torn in two directions. Whatever fate might weave for the future, this day could never be undone. Even if Jane were to come away with him, she would never forget that she had betrayed Thor, and even if she stayed with Thor, the memory of Loki would always be between them. He'd soured either choice she might make. 

He found he was laughing, giggling into his hands. Had the Norns not been generous? They had made him king, they had made all of Asgard kneel to him. They had given him a bloody revenge for his slights. They had given him the satisfaction of cuckolding his brother. Like the clever fiends they were, they had done it all in the cruelest way possible. 

His laughter stilled. The Norns. _An age of adultery_ , their verses had said. He shivered. All this was their weaving. They had chosen Loki for their instrument, for Ragnarok, for the doom prophesied for the gods. He hated them for it. He hated this fate they had meted out to him, and he wanted nothing more now than to reach the end of it. 

He got up and went to Jane's machine. The coordinate ring still stood propped against its frame. He knew as much as he needed to operate it. The sooner he could put his real plan into motion, the sooner this would all end. He need not involve Jane any longer. 

He had an ocean of blood to wade through still and no idea what might lie on the far side. But it would be an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains: explicit sex, infidelity


	28. Such Lost Creatures

Concealing the coordinate controller was easy: it vanished into a pocket of Loki's overcoat without a ripple. Unfortunately, it was also fragile. Fine glass covered the top surface of the ring, leaving the hole in the middle free. He would have to be careful. If he'd had his magic he could have simply hidden it safely away in a pocket of space, beyond any risk of jostling or crushing. That it was necessary to think about so mundane a concern seemed ludicrous. 

He didn't wait for Thanos to summon him, but slept until he was rested and dressed immaculately and went to the courtyard before the appointed time of his own accord. He stood where he did not have to see the gallows and steeled himself, whetting his lies like blades. Time for Thanos to dance on _his_ strings. 

Night arrived. The stars blinked as if awaking from sleep as the sun made way for them. He knew when Thanos came not from any sound but from the feeling of being watched. 

He turned to find the usurper on his throne, and Thor as always chained by his side. Thanos inhabited Odin's seat so thoroughly that Loki could scarcely remember how it had looked before. Thor's beard was wild and he had grown thinner, stripped down like a feral animal; almost one would not have guessed that he was a prince. The past had receded out of reach. There was only this nightmare Asgard and the nightmare Loki within it. 

"How fare your designs, Loki?" Thanos said. "Tell me what you have brought me!"

Loki walked forward, swinging the ceremonial spear he always carried during Thanos' sacrifices. It was the same one Sif had died holding. "I bring you the greatest army in the Nine Realms," he said.

Thor's head snapped up. "Loki, no!"

Excellent. Thanos knew better than to trust Loki's words, but he must also know by now that Thor possessed no skill at deceit. The sincerity of Thor's despair would convince him as no amount of honeyed lies ever could. 

"Oh, yes," Loki said. He let a slow, cruel smile play over his lips. "My brother tried to hide it from me when he held me captive on Earth. But the journey to Asgard he demanded I undertake with him was obviously a scouting mission. I am certain he assembled an army of his allies on Earth, and with the help of the divining instruments in the observatory, I've determined its location."

"He is lying!" Thor protested. "This is a trick!"

"No doubt he is," Thanos said, his flashing eyes alight with interest. "But I will hear more of this army."

Loki stopped and spread his hands. "The greatest warriors of Jotunheim, an immortal race once almost equal to the Asgardians. And the greatest warriors of Midgard, some of whom are quite... unusual. As I mentioned to the Other in my reports."

"Yes," Thanos said. "I recall that they defeated you."

Loki feigned a spasm of annoyance. "All the more reason to send them to Lady Death. Odinson gathered them together to retake Asgard from you. They are camped in the garden in the middle of the city where I opened the portal. Open another one there and they'll be eager to fight. You can kill them all at once. Has Mistress Death ever seen so much excellence eradicated so quickly, so gracefully? She won't be able to help being impressed."

Thor glared at him, shaking his head in denial. "I trusted you. Fool that I am, I trusted you in spite of everything you've done. How can you betray us now? Do you even know whose side you're on anymore?"

The words pierced him cruelly. It was necessary – it was necessary. But how he longed to defend himself, to change the look on Thor's face from horror back to love. If they survived, if anyone would listen, perhaps he could. Push on; he must forge ahead now and show no sign of faltering. 

"Mine," he said. "I am on _my_ side. Your human friends are no loss to me."

"You couldn't defeat them yourself, so you hide behind this monster." Thor's eyes shone with contempt and disappointment. 

Thanos grinned ferociously and snapped Thor's chain, bringing him to his knees. "It pains you, Odinson, to see your comrades die? Then you shall see each of them fall before you follow. But first, one more vision will stamp your eye. I know you have waited long for it." 

The Tesseract pulsed. Thor, bent double as if he'd been kicked in the stomach, raised his head and stared past Loki. 

Dread weighing heavy on him, Loki turned to look. 

Frigga Fjörgynsdottir stood before the gallows, her wasted head held high. _Mother._

"No!" Thor cried. "You said it wouldn't be her. We had a bargain!"

A _bargain_? With Thanos? Loki could hardly believe it. This was not the Thor he had known. Despite himself, he was impressed. What could Thor possibly have offered?

"The bargain was that she would come last," Thanos said. "So she has, save for you and the old white-hair. Her time has come. The queen precedes her king."

It couldn't be. All were dead, all had fallen? Asgard was desolate? Then only those closest to him remained to kill. _No. No. Mother._ He'd been too slow. He'd meant to set his plan in motion before their turn came. Events had raced on ahead of him. Too slow.

A sudden memory from his childhood flashed through his mind. He'd run a race with Thor and his friends, and come in last. _Loki Laggard,_ someone had shouted. _Loki Slowfoot._ Who had it been? He'd held back his tears until he was in private. Mother had stroked his hair. 

In the ghastly present, his mother stepped forward until she stood at his side. Her eyes remained on Thor. 

"My son," she said. 

"I'm sorry," Thor said. "Mother, I'm sorry. I tried to protect you."

"No, my heart. I bore you. It was I who failed to protect you."

She turned her head to Loki. He gasped for air. Her hair was lank and hollows lived in her cheeks that had been smooth and fresh. Her dark eyes were liquid with feeling, but he could not read it for he could not meet them for more than a second: it was like staring into a blazing sun. How she must regret her charity in raising him now. He wished he could put his head on her knee and feel her smooth his hair once more. He had relinquished her love forever. 

She said nothing to him.

"Loki," Thanos said. The monster was flush with ghoulish pleasure. What a windfall he'd come upon to glut his destructiveness. What a gift from the gods Loki had been to him. "Loki, what think you? What spectacle have you devised for the queen? She is a rare creature. It must be a rare death."

In the shock of seeing his mother he had forgotten his own role. He was to pronounce her sentence. 

His mind went blank. He gaped stupidly like a fish at Thanos. Words, he needed words. He could feel the three of them looking at him. Waiting for him. He wavered on a knife's point. 

He could not do it. He was close, so close to ending Thanos, but he had come to the end of his means; he foundered, searching for the coldness he had wrapped around himself, the ruthlessness that had arisen from his old hurts, his old anger. He found nothing. He had no shield. His plan was sinking in sentiment. 

He met his mother's eyes at last. He couldn't look away. He found no hatred there, but a heartache that blinded him. Her hand rose as if she might touch him and he waited, suspended in this moment, not knowing what would happen if she did. 

Thor barreled to his feet. Loki and Frigga's heads turned as one. 

The chains clattered too loudly. They were no longer around Thor's neck and arms. _He had loosed himself somehow._

Quicker than Loki would have thought a mortal body could move, Thor darted around Thanos, drawing the chain tight about his legs. Caught off guard, Thanos roared – and then fell, a tree trunk crashing down a mountainside. His knees struck the ground with a mighty impact. 

Frigga leapt into motion. She sprang forward and backhanded the kneeling Titan with a blow that drew the whole of her body into one smooth line. 

The Tesseract burst from its setting and bounced end over end across the ground. Blood ran from between Frigga's fingers. 

"Brother!" Thor shouted, his muscles bulging as he strained at the chain. He raised his hand; something wicked and sharp glittered in it. _How?_ "If ever you were true to me, aid me now!"

Loki quivered, drawn taut with uncertainty, for a moment longer. He could play his role, abandon his brother and his mother and follow his plan through to the end with Thanos unaware of his true loyalty. Thor and Frigga would die believing Loki had betrayed them after all. Or he could join with them and... there was no way, no way they would succeed. Thanos could not be killed with such paltry weapons.

But his body responded more quickly than his mind. He kicked the Tesseract, sending it spinning far out of reach. He hefted the spear he had been clutching like an old man his staff. 

"Move!" he shouted at Thor and Frigga. They recoiled from the Titan. 

He hurled the spear. It flew true. It cut the air and then Thanos' skin and then his flesh, tearing into his chest and impaling his heart. 

Loki caught Thor's eye. The triumph written all over his brother's face was so brilliant he nearly succumbed to it. For an instant he dared to believe. _They had killed him._ Together. 

Then Thanos stirred. His oversized hand closed around the spear's shaft and drew it from his body as if it were no more than a thorn. The wound did not heal: it faded, like a drawing slowly erased from paper. Death refused to come to Thanos. He heaved himself to his feet, bursting the chain into individual links. The Tesseract flared. 

Loki was running and Thor was running and Frigga stood, frozen, and they were shouting, shouting without words. 

Two snakes of blue light slithered from the Tesseract, wrapped themselves around Thor and Frigga, and snapped their necks. 

Loki jerked to a halt. Thor toppled at his feet, his body unnaturally twisted. Beyond Thanos, his mother was a crumpled heap of tattered clothing and waxen skin and frail bone. He saw these things, but he could not believe; surely they would stir any moment. Surely they could not simply be _empty_.

"No," he said.

"No?" hissed Thanos. "No?"

Thick, dank fingers wrapped around Loki's throat and lifted him into the air. He dangled, choking for breath. 

"Insect! You have cost me a handsome tribute. You will pay for that. Did you believe you had fooled me, Thanos? Did you think your lies could ensnare Thanos the supreme? Eternal turncoat, who would ever weigh your words greater than a feather?"

"You," Loki rasped through his burning throat, "you _knew_ – "

"I knew that you would turn on me. I knew that whatever scheme you spun would be a fool's game. A stupid child lashing out in impotent anger! The only surprise is how pathetic an attempt this proved to be."

"Why – why don't you – " Burning sparks jumped around Loki's vision. He could feel his awareness narrowing. Panic welled up in him and he kicked and gasped futilely for breath. Such pain in his throat. Everything was pain. 

Thanos hurled him to the earth. His cheek connected with the ground with a crack that rang throughout his skull. "Why don't you just kill me?" he ground out through the fire in his throat. 

"Kill you?" Thanos said with his malicious grin. "I will never kill you. Everyone else will fall. All the universe will be vanquished before me. But you, you will stay by my side. Never would I insult Lady Death by sending her such a worthless offering as you." He picked up the Tesseract and refitted it into its neckpiece. 

"You're a monster," Loki half-sobbed. His voice wobbled like a rickety bridge, fading in and out around the pain. "A creature born of the darkest void. A nightmare of hate and envy of anything that lives and is less monstrous than you. Even death despises you. But something _will_ end you – even you can't go on forever."

Thanos snarled. "You think yourself an assassin? You are a child sulking because your parents gave you too few toys. You looked into the abyss for your petty vengeance and now you like not what you found there. But it is too late. You must swallow what you have bitten off. _That._ " He flung out a hand. 

Loki looked up. Thanos had cast him at the foot of the gibbet. Idunn's body swung above him. Teeth showed through the decaying cheek; the empty eye sockets accused him. His heart lurched and pounded. He didn't look, but he could still feel Thor's glassy gaze. So much death, so many eyes; and in death they saw through him, saw everything he had spent a lifetime hiding. He had brought all of this. 

"Do you not relish your own handiwork? Soon there will be more. An army truly does wait on Earth. Odinson's anguish shows that much to be true. Whatever trick you thought to play will end in their deaths just the same."

"They will kill you," Loki spat. "They are more powerful than you know!"

But Thanos possessed not even the memory of fear. He would walk laughing into any trap, for he knew it would bash itself to pieces on him. He saw no danger, only the chance of more glory for Death. 

"No one is more powerful than Thanos," he said. "It matters not what your scheme is. Your friends and enemies alike will die. I will find your last accomplice and give her, too, to Lady Death."

Loki's heart skipped in its desperate rhythm. "What? There is no – I have no other accomplices!" 

Thanos could not know about Jane. How could he know? Did he truly know everything? The creature looming above him seemed suddenly a god in truth, invincible and all-knowing. A vengeful god! 

"But you do. I saw you all three in the giants' mirror. You and Odinson and a woman who wore your colors. Is there another whom you love, Loki? Did you leave her on Earth? Then she will die, too. I will make sure you are there to see it."

"No," Loki moaned. He staggered to his feet. The hanging corpse nearly entangled him in its arms. 

He fled, Thanos' laughter at his heels.

He ran from the courtyard and through the city, across bridges and through promenades and boulevards and avenues, all silent and deserted. His mortal lungs drew only short breaths and each one scorched him like fire. Blood ran from his mouth. He had bitten his tongue when Thanos choked him. Still he ran, as if he might run out of Asgard, run out of this nightmare, out of his own life. 

He came to the rainbow bridge. The beautiful quartz stretched out its broad back over the sea and with each step upon it, mute bursts of color lit and died under his feet. He ran to the very brink of Asgard, until there was nowhere left to run, and fell to his knees at the broken edge where the Bifrost had once been the city's door to the universe. 

The ocean roared over the edge into the void. Its spray moistened his flushed face. _Thor_ , he thought. _Mother. Thor._

Every time he blinked, the image of his brother's neck at that unnatural angle burned in the blackness behind his lids. What madness had possessed him? The fool, the halfwit, the great oaf... Always charging heedless into danger. How could he have dreamed to attack Thanos with nothing but the strength of his arms? 

If only Thor had listened to him and left the Nine Realms instead of coming here. If only Thor had listened to him, ever. If only he – 

Stinging tears forced their way from his eyes. His slammed his fists onto the bridge, but the pain was not enough to drive them back. He wept, and covered his face for shame at weeping. The tears ran through his fingers, hot and sticky with salt. He wept for Thor and for his mother, for Sif and for Volstagg and the Warriors Three; for all those who had come to ruin; even for Odin, wherever he might be. He wept for the foolish waste he had made of his life and for the destruction it had caused. But most of all for Thor. 

The tears slowed at last, until his eyes, exhausted, were clear. He climbed to his shaky legs and crept to the furthest splintered edge of the bridge. The water hurtled over the brink to become frost lacing the vastness of the void. There beyond it were the darkness, the stars, the shining clouds in the profundity of space. 

This was where he had fallen from Asgard these many, many months ago. This was where Thor had cast him out... hadn't he? He tried to recall that fight with his brother, but his memory was like a colored glass window that had been smashed and pieced precariously back together. There were flashes, silent: Thor knocked to the ground, Thor extending his hand, mouthing _no_ , letting go of the spear. He'd brooded on those events so much that they had an air of unreality about them. Had it happened so?

He no longer cared. If Thor had tried to kill him, well, he had tried to kill Thor enough times that they were more than even. None of it mattered anymore. All his life he had passed in Thor's shadow. He'd thought once that if he could eradicate that suffocating shadow he would finally be able to grow. To become someone in his own right. But with Thor's shadow fallen at last, he was still the same Loki; his inadequacy remained with him, for it had never been created by Thor, but lived inside himself. It would follow him wherever he went. All his grasping and thrashing had been in vain. 

He stared into the abyss. He had fallen from here, and that fall had led him to Thanos, and Thanos had pursued him right back to this place where he had begun. The black, airless void had been terrible – maddening – but not deadly, not then. If he fell now, there would be no coming out the other side. His mortal body would die within minutes. With it would die all the burden of his guilt, his memory, all the effort of trying to undo what he had wrought. He could die, and Asgard would die with him. Were their souls still admitted to Valhalla? Would his be flung into Hel? Would he wander in Niflheim? Or go to entertain Thanos' Lady Death? Perhaps mortal souls went nowhere and only an eternal sleep would await him. How restful it seemed to no longer be Loki; to no longer be.

"Loki?" Jane's voice said behind him.

He had not heard her step behind the roaring of the falls and of his thoughts. 

"I waited for you in the observatory, but you didn't come. A piece of the machine is missing."

The ring. He had forgotten all about it. He took it out of the pocket of his overcoat. An edge was notched, but the delicate glass shone unbroken. He stared at it, but it seemed unimportant in the shadow of what had unfolded since he'd taken it.

"Why...?" Jane came around to his side, staring at the ring in his palm, and then at his face. "What's wrong? You're bleeding." Her hand rose and hovered, stopping before it touched his face. "And you look like you've been crying. What happened?"

"Thor is dead," he said, not taking his eyes off the ring. It was difficult to focus on it, or anything. _Thor._

" _What?_ "

"Thor," he repeated, "is dead. Thor is dead." Thor was dead. He said it over and over again in his mind. 

Jane recoiled. "No," she said. "No way."

"Thanos killed him."

" _Fuck!_ "

He looked up. She was pacing, her hands buried in her hair. The rainbows danced blithely away under her feet. She shook her head, eyes staring at nothing, arguing with no one. 

"How could this happen? How could you let – " She broke off and began chewing on a nail. She was not weeping. She hadn't truly understood yet: only the words, not the meaning, not the true weight of it. _For my part, I am your brother. We can, together._

"He attacked Thanos. Ever the brave fool."

"That _idiot_!" Jane flashed. "How could he – I'm going to – " She cut off and pressed a palm to her forehead. Blinking back tears now. She came towards Loki, bright eyes searching his, pleading, entreating him to say it wasn't true, to explain. "Why didn't you do something?"

"I tried," he said. A thousand words suddenly brimmed behind his lips. He had tried so hard; he'd been trying for what felt like eternity. "But I failed. Now Thanos knows I was dealing false with him."

She let out a long breath. "Does he know about the plan? The machine?" There was a look on her face he recognized. He'd seen it in mirrors whenever he caught a glimpse of his reflection, growing month after month since he'd left Asgard, and even sometimes in the years before. The roots of anger; the desire for vengeance. 

He looked down at the ring in his hand. So did Jane.

"Why do you have that?" she said.

There seemed to be no more sense in lying. He felt drained of everything. Every illusion he had woven about himself had shattered. "The plan was never going to work, Jane. I had another scheme. A secret one. I needed this component to carry it out. I tricked you into working with me so I could get it."

She closed her eyes for a long moment and opened them again. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"I knew you would never agree to my plan."

"Why not? What was it?"

"To control the Tesseract myself."

"But you can't do magic. That's why we were going to use Erik's machine! Loki, for the love of god, just tell me what's going on!"

He took a deep breath and let his last secret spill from his lips. "The plan wouldn't have worked because activating the Tesseract won't stop Thanos from being able to use its power. A mindless device can't wrest control from a master of sorcery like Thanos. He even noticed when you tried to detect residue from the Tesseract. That's why he came looking for me." His voice dropped as if someone might hear. "Our army will be facing an omnipotent god. They'll be so much carrion for the crows."

She blinked, uncomprehending. "So you've been lying to me the whole time. After everything. I can't believe..." Her voice hitched. Her eyes were wide, dark and vulnerable. Hurt. 

"No!" he said involuntarily. "Jane, I was trying to spare you. I didn't lie about what really mattered. I want to defeat Thanos as much as you do. And," he went on, the words gaining strength. "I think I know how to do it." Metal bit into his palm. He realized he was gripping the ring hard enough to hurt, and stopped. 

"How?"

He spun the ring in his fingers. "With this, I can control where the Tesseract opens the portal. I'll use the portal to cast Thanos out of Asgard. Once he's gone, the spell he's laid over the realm will dissipate. I'll have my magic back again." Warmth seeped back into his limbs as he spoke. His mind sputtered and sparked, coming to life. He still had the ring. He still had the one thing he needed. The only thing he'd lost was his failsafe. _This wasn't over._ "Once I can wield magic again," he said, slowly, deliberately, "I'll be able to undo everything Thanos has done. With the Tesseract."

She looked dazed, but the last words sunk in quickly. "Undo it? You mean you can bring Thor back to life?"

Maybe. Maybe. If the Norns had pity on him. "Yes. That's the real plan."

Jane was quiet for a long time. The seas cannoned over the edge of the land. Little rainbows danced in the spray, rainbows flickered beneath their feet; rainbows all around, a riot of colors hidden unless one looked close. She took the ring from him and he relinquished it without protest. She turned it over gently in her hand. He watched her think. The stars burned overhead and the summer moon moved.

"You were going to reset the coordinates and send him somewhere random?" she asked at last. "Given how much of the universe is empty space, there's a ninety-nine percent chance he'd end up floating between galaxies somewhere. But would that kill him?"

"I... don't know, in truth. But as long as I send him far enough away, his connection to the Tesseract will be broken. I couldn't think of a better way without being able to tell you. Jane," he said, and she looked up at him. "This is the only thing that has any chance of working. Thanos is a mad god, a force of nature. He'll never stop himself; he must _be_ stopped. No matter the price."

Her teeth caught her lip. "And by price, you mean... the lives of the people in our army. They'd be up against him and the full power of the Tesseract. They would – he'll probably kill most of them. Then you'll throw him out into space somewhere, but there's no guarantee he'll die. So you'll be sacrificing our people _just to get him out of Asgard._ He'll still be alive. He can just go on and terrorize someone else if he ever hits solid land again."

"Yes," he admitted. 

"Your plans are terrible."

He seized her hand. "I can bring them back, Jane. All of them. Everyone Thanos kills through the power of the Tesseract." His voice sounded wild. He must look like a madman, raving about raising the dead. But he believed it; he must, or else he truly would go mad. 

Her hands stilled under his. "I could reprogram this," she said in a low voice. "I could set the coordinates for the center of the sun. Nothing could survive being torn apart atom by atom on a nuclear level." She looked up at him, a savage light in her eye.

The spark of hope that flared in him seared his frayed nerves. Jane, beautiful Jane. 

"That might actually work," he said slowly. Had Thanos ever been hurled into a star? He couldn't recall hearing any such story among the many rumors of the mad Titan he'd come across. Thanos dealt death in battle and his foes responded in kind. He had survived things no one should be able to survive, but to pass unscathed through the forge at the heart of a sun? It seemed impossible, even for him.

"You should have told me," Jane said. "The coordinate programming system was ready yesterday. I could have reprogrammed it and you could have done everything before Thor..." She expelled a shuddering breath. "You should have trusted me!"

"Jane, if this doesn't work – if I can't undo Thanos' work – what he has done here will endure. Your friends will fight him and fall and they won't be restored to life."

"The Avengers," she said under her breath. " _Tony._ Natasha – "

She was quiet for another long spell before she started to pace again. The sea spray shone on her hair as she pushed a hand through it. "We'd be gambling all their lives. I'd, I'd have to go down to Stark Tower and talk to them like everything's normal while I'm planning to send them into the meat grinder? How can I do that? I can't possibly tell them the truth. No one is going to lay down their life trusting Loki to resurrect them again. I'd be betraying them. I won't be able to look them in the eye. And if it doesn't work, if you can't control the Tesseract..."

She had put her finger on it. She was reacting just as he'd feared weeks ago when the idea had come to him. Only now her struggle felt like it belonged to him as well. Her distress pained him. 

Perhaps if he had learned to see through her eyes, he could make her see through his as well. 

"If you don't try," Loki said, "then Thor is already dead and nothing can change that. The same is true of all the people of Asgard. My mother. People who were my friends, whom I betrayed. With this, I have a chance to return them all to life. Asgard can live again." He had a chance to shed the agonizing burden of guilt. To make good. To undo the unspeakable horror he'd wrought. 

She closed her eyes again. "I'm a scientist, Loki. Nobody elected me, or, or put me in charge of anything. I'm not supposed to make life and death decisions!" When she opened her eyes, they were shining. 

"Then consider this: when Thanos is finished here, he'll begin looking for new realms to devastate. He already knows of Earth. Its people are numerous. Eventually, his attention will wander there. I doubt it will take very long. No weapon or defense humanity has will stop him. We'll be as good as condemning your friends and your planet to death by standing idle. You're the only human who knows what he can do, who knows the true magnitude of the threat. And that means you're the only human who can decide what to do about it."

She took another shaky breath. "Oh, _Thor_. I wish he were here. I, I can't even tell what's right anymore. He always knows what's right. Ever since I met you," she said, her gaze lucid, "every time I'm with you, I have to lie to someone, or help kill someone, or do something else terrible. Everything I do is a step on a road that keeps getting darker and darker. And it's always you I'm following."

He took her hand, turned it palm up, ran his thumb over her skin. "Take this last step with me. No, not a step – a leap. A leap into darkness. A leap into the abyss. Maybe we'll come out the other side and find home the way we left it. If not... at least we won't be alone in the dark."

She gripped his hand fiercely. "Tell me this is going to work."

"I can't. But we don't have a better choice."

They teetered at the edge of the world, where water and wind became void, where the solid earth became nothing and there was nothing more to stand on. Her expression was translucent as glass. He saw her make the decision she believed she had no right to make. 

"It's all in, then," she said. 

The final wager, the last, desperate gamble. Everything they had left. A sacrifice of all who remained in the hope of winning them all back. 

"I'll be back in twenty minutes," she said. 

"I'll wait for you."

She squeezed his hand hard one last time and went to roll the dice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains: major and minor character death, suicidal thoughts


	29. All Fall Before Me

When Jane returned, she was out of breath. She pressed the steel-and-glass ring into Loki's hand.

"It's done," she said. Her face was set. 

"Stay here," he told her. "If I fail, you must warn Earth."

"If you fail, there might be no point."

He left her standing at the end of the bridge and ran back into the city. She didn't follow, but he could feel her eyes watching him for a long time. _Wish me luck._ Both their hopes lay encoded in the fragile device he had tucked into the folds of his clothing.

He arrived in the courtyard to find Thanos arming. Ranks of Chitauri stood around the borders of the square. More hovered in their air on their fliers, black silhouettes against the stars. Thanos had not brought them to fight; no, all the glory, all the death would be his own. Allies of Thanos were short-lived and the Chitauri would no doubt join Earth's champions in death. Loki wondered if they knew it. Their hive mind was too firmly under Thanos' control to resist. 

The bodies of his mother and brother still lay on ground. The sight was so wrong, so unimaginable even as his eyes took it in that he felt as if he were hallucinating. How could any of this be real? How had it come to be? He walked in a dream. 

"So you've come to watch!" Thanos roared. "Good! I would have summoned you else. You _will_ watch. Whatever trick you thought to play against me, you will watch it fail."

"You're right," Loki said with a deference he didn't bother to make convincing. "I was a fool to oppose you. It was but a silly moment of sentimental weakness."

Thanos grinned. "To see you cringe and flatter in fear brings me great amusement. Boy, you will know the power of Thanos!"

He took the Tesseract off its setting on his chest. The blue light sloshed in its queasy rhythm. He placed it onto his golden throne, one thick-boned hand resting atop it. Across the courtyard from it, the doors of the antechamber and throne room rested open, and the vacant twin throne watched in stately silence. 

"Mistress!" he called to the empty air. "Come see what I have wrought for you. Even you are not too grand to accept such a gift as this one. You will be mine today!"

The Tesseract brightened to blinding. A torrent of light burst from it, straight out into the open doors of the palace. It coalesced into a vertical pool floating in mid-air in the throne room, spreading, spreading out until twenty men abreast could march through it. The pool first shone like burnished glass, and then turned transparent. 

Through a window torn in space, Loki looked into the garden in the middle of New York City. The portal had opened just outside the frost giant camp. It warped and wavered, obscuring and revealing the world behind it: snow-clad, fragile, but ready for war. 

The jotuns noticed it immediately. It took only moments for them to sound the alarm. Shouts shattered the air and knots of warriors streamed into formation. They had been expecting it, of course: Jane had told them it would be she and Loki who controlled the Tesseract, that Thanos would be bereft of his insurmountable advantage. As yet they did not know differently.

Behind them came ranks of black-clad human soldiers, tiny next to the giants but vastly more numerous. They had grim-looking vehicles encrusted with weaponry. Somewhere, he knew, the Avengers were coming – their name more apt than even they knew, for one of their number was dead. 

Thanos strode to the doors of the antechamber and roared his challenge. The stream of the Tesseract threw its light on him and his black shadow stretched away to meet the shrinking ones that shifted under the pillars of the courtyard. 

The armies of Midgard and Jotunheim assembled with frantic speed. Within minutes they poured through the portal, pushing the advantage of what they thought a surprise attack. Thanos met them with all his might. The Tesseract flamed to painful brightness; and he began to kill. 

The spectacle was so mesmerizing that Loki could not immediately tear himself away. Horrified fascination pulled him in Thanos' wake. 

The doors of the throne room were wide, but not so wide as to permit the whole army to pass through and encircle Thanos. He'd chosen the battleground to ensure he faced them in tens and twenties at a time. 

Jotuns ducked under the portal, coming with axes and swords enchanted never to falter. Thanos turned them aside. More jotuns came with arrows that never missed their mark. They struck Thanos and withered. Humans came with weapons so terrible they had been developed in burrows underground, kept secret from their own people. Bullets and bombs glanced off Thanos, fire did not singe him, electricity did not stun him. 

He sent the arrows and bullets back to their owners; he boiled the blood inside the veins of jotun and human alike, he ripped them apart as they screamed, he made some blind and sent them blundering through the midst of the battle, he made others mad so they clawed their skin to ribbons. Whatever he desired, was; and his desire for death was without limit.

Loki found splinters biting his fingers. The wooden frame of the gallows frowned next to him, and he was gripping it hard enough to pierce the skin. _Turn, go, leave,_ his mind urged. Thanos was occupied! The Tesseract was vulnerable. He was forcing his heavy feet to move when something caught his eye. 

A red blur dove through the portal. The Avengers had arrived. Loki saw Steve Rogers run into the fray, looking neither left nor right but straight at Thanos. He did not turn aside for the dead or for those who fought with each other or themselves. Above him in the air came Tony Stark in his flying armor. They moved in tandem, with steps planned in advance; they had not been idle while Loki and Jane did their stealthy work on Asgard. 

Stark was fast. He reached Thanos before any threat could touch him. He wheeled in the air and a blast of energy sent the Titan spinning. It was only a nudge; it did nothing but throw Thanos off balance. But it did so long enough to allow Rogers to arrive unscathed.

The idiot costume the human wore looked distinctly out of place in Asgard. His shield, though, was more than just show. It had withstood the Tesseract's blasts in Jotunheim. Rogers knew his greatest asset. He launched himself into a flying leap, bringing down the shield on Thanos' neck with all his momentum and all his superhuman strength. 

Unbreakable shield met unslayable flesh. For a moment the world seemed to double in Loki's eyes: the shield did not break and neither did Thanos, they were both whole, at the same time, in the same place. Pain bludgeoned Loki's temples. He pressed his eyes shut. A sickening clang reverberated in the hall. When he opened his eyes again, the shield lay in two halves to either side of Thanos. _Shields will be cloven._ His heartbeat drummed in his ears. 

Thanos' hand shot out and closed on Rogers' throat. He pushed himself back to his feet, bearing the human with him into the air. Stark sped down to the rescue, too slowly, too slowly, for Thanos had wrapped his other hand around Rogers' skull and started to squeeze. Rogers was screaming. 

Behind them all, Skadi loped through the portal with her hounds and the Hulk at her side. The Hulk roared; Skadi loosed a volley of arrows. Thanos dropped Rogers at last – alive still, but the reprieve, no doubt, would be brief.

Skadi caught sight of Loki, frozen in the courtyard, and howled. Her next arrow was for him. He scrabbled out of the way. The shock brought him back to himself. Why was he standing here watching? The Tesseract was unguarded!

He left Thanos to the Hulk and ran back towards the other throne. Behind him the sounds of battle raged. The screams tore at him, accusing, and the smell of blood brooding in the air made his head spin. He was sorry for them all, even the frost giants, even the cursed frost giants, but if he let this bottomless guilt swallow him he would be lost. He could only go forward.

He skidded to a halt. The Tesseract was not unguarded. A small contingent of Chitauri stood ranged around the throne. The rest waiting all around the courtyard did not move as he appeared – they must have orders to wait – but these responded, hoisting their weapons. 

Worse, they were not alone. It was not only the Tesseract they were guarding. They had a prisoner: Odin. Odin All-Father, who must, Loki realized, be the very last Asgardian living, and would therefore be sacrificed at this bloodbath along with every other soul in the city. Odin's back was unbowed. His white hair crowned him with a dignity confinement had not diminished. His face was harsh and his eyes, wintry as the stars, fixed on Loki.

Dismay took him by the throat. Not here, not now; he needed no distractions. He tried to shut out the forbidding stare, to focus all his attention on the task at hand. 

The Chitauri came to alert. He had no time to plan. He grabbed his spear from where it still lay by Thor's body and hurled himself at the guards. They were many and he was but one; yet Sif had fought them with this very spear and killed many, and so must he, so must he or die trying. 

Metal clashed on metal and then on shell. A knot of bodies careened left and then right again, away from the humming power of the Tesseract which made Loki's instincts bristle. Their shadows danced alongside them. 

He dodged the closest Chitauri's thrust and sliced it through the neck. Three came at him at once and he fell back, evading them. His reflexes were not as fast as they had been, but he was quick enough still for a feint and spin. His blade caught a guard between the ribs as it leaped for him. Black blood sprayed from the wound. He turned to parry a slash from the Chitauri to his right, but the move left his flank open. He contorted, trying to avoid the other guard's attack but, he knew, he'd been too slow. 

He braced for the pain.

The Chitauri screeched and reared back in mid-stab. The tip of a spear emerged from its chest. Blood bubbled from its mouth and it slid gently off the spear's tip and to the ground. Behind it stood Odin, armed with the weapon of the first Chitauri Loki had killed.

 _Father?_ No. Not his father. 

Odin didn't stop to speak, but spun to face the remaining guards. The miniature battle raged next to the full-scale one, the participants of each too occupied to pay attention to the other. A serrated edge sliced Loki's thigh. His knee wobbled and he fell, using the momentum to push a Chitauri bodily into the light streaming from the Tesseract. It had no time to make a noise before the magic burned its insides out of reality. His instincts had been right. 

All the while Odin, too, was lending his hand to the battle. When he felled the last guard, Loki half-leapt, half-hobbled towards where his father stood by the throne, leaning heavily on his spear.

"You live," he said. 

Odin's head came up. His face was flushed and his white wispy hair splattered with blood. He looked older than Loki had ever seen him and grim, grim as death itself. 

This was the king of Asgard, the true king of Asgard, locked away in a dungeon while his people were exterminated. This was his father. Foster father. His heart twisted. Every time he thought he'd reached the limit of his ability to feel, something new came to deluge him, to unsteady him. He'd planned with great care what he would say to Odin when they met. He could remember not a word of it. He wanted to turn his cold shoulder to Odin and give him nothing but silence, and to pour out words of explanation and entreaty in an endless torrent. An incoherent howl of hurt pressed against his throat, _why, why did you do this to me, why did you make me into this, why did you lie, why did you lie, lie, lie?_

He swallowed it down. The Tesseract. Only the Tesseract mattered. He concentrated. 

"I must – " Loki said. 

The spear swung with such speed he had no time to react. He found himself on the ground, his head ringing from an immense blow and fresh blood dripping from his mouth. 

"What," he sputtered, "what?" Father had hit him? 

Odin struck the butt of his spear against the ground. His lips peeled back in a snarl. "I know, Loki, what you've been doing. What you have done. You opened this realm to death and annihilation." 

Loki shook his head, his mouth open but no words coming out. His tongue tasted iron. 

The All-Father advanced until he loomed over him, the spear a scepter, the blood staining his brow a crown. He was again the distant king and stern father who had ruled the gods for all of time. Looking up at him, Loki felt himself again the child who had erred. The child who must be punished. 

"You betrayed us!" Odin rasped. He quivered with anger. "Out of base vengeance because you could not be the man your brother was. For that you have destroyed this world."

He had no time for this. He should brush the old man aside. Now!

"Who taught me I should be like my brother?" Loki burst out instead. Tears burned his eyes. "Who told me I must be other than myself? That my own nature was crooked and insufficient?"

"This is what your crooked nature has wrought!" Odin thrust out a finger towards the battle. The doors of the palace had been torn apart, and the walls to either side. Corpses littered the ground. Blood pooled and ran; blood of different colors stained the throne room and the antechamber and the courtyard so that it was not possible to imagine them clean ever again. 

Odin understood nothing. 

"You misjudge me!" Loki said, but even in his ears it sounded like a whine. "You always have! I'm here to take up the Tesseract and put an end to this. I'll kill Thanos and restore Asgard to life!"

"So you betray your new master as well?" Odin sneered. 

"He was never my master! I never wanted this. I never wanted any of this!"

"No, Loki. Your lies cannot fool me. You have no intention of saving Asgard. You want the Tesseract's power for yourself, to make yourself ruler of the Nine Realms. Your thirst for a throne has stripped you of honor."

"That isn't – " Loki dragged himself to his feet, shaking. "Your anger blinds you. What have I _ever_ done that has harmed Asgard? I tried to destroy Jotunheim! For you! Why would I want to destroy Asgard now? I'm trying to _save_ Asgard! Your judgment has always been so, so quick, so merciless." 

"You dare call me merciless when the bodies of my wife and son lie cold on the ground before me? Your mother who raised you and your brother who loved you! Where was your mercy when they needed it?" The spear swung a warning note in the air. "For a thousand years I nurtured you. I gave you a birthright when nothing awaited you but death. But even the light of Asgard could not gentle you. You have brought our ruin! Now," he said, hoisting his spear, "I bring yours." He charged. 

Odin's strength could not be great, but he wielded the Chitauri's spear with ease and a deadly determination. Made clumsy and unbalanced by Odin's words, Loki barely escaped the blow. The spear thrust and stabbed, and Loki fell back and fell back. The spear's point flashed; it bit at the air where he'd been, it glanced off the edge of his parry with an unpleasant rasp. His shoulder thudded into something solid. It was the gallows. He dodged around it. He and Odin circled around the thick wooden post, the corpse a deadweight above them. 

"Stop!" he cried, "Stop, you don't know what you're doing!" The old fool. The wrongheaded, indomitable old fool. 

He fumbled for the coordinate ring. "Look! This device will allow me to control the Tesseract. It's a human invention not bound by the laws of our realm. We don't have much time. We can still stop him!"

The spear whipped around the post and sliced a bloody gash down his ribs. He reeled back, nearly ran into the stream of the Tesseract, flinched away and stumbled back again, one hand clutching the ring and the other numb around his weapon. To his right was the instant death of the Tesseract's light and before him a hail of relentless blows. The throne and its prize waited behind him, but he couldn't turn or he'd open his back to the blade. 

He parried each thrust desperately, too disoriented to attempt a counterattack. Why were they fighting? Why could Father not _see_? He had the means of deliverance in his hand. He was only a few steps away from the ultimate power. It was a mistake, it was all a mistake. How could something so petty be holding him back?

Clammy sweat dampened his skin and a distant ringing buzzed in his ears. He recognized it; he'd taken steel twice. His tunic was damp and clinging and he left half-footprints in his own blood. He was weakening, and had no time. 

Pouring all his desperation into the motion, he rammed aside Odin's spear and swung the butt of his own at his opponent's head. Odin, unexpectedly nimble, evaded the strike. Loki's momentum barreled him forward; their shoulders collided. The steel-and-glass ring flew from his hand. Odin's spear gleamed in the sunlight of Earth. He grabbed the middle of the haft and thrust as if with a short sword. 

The spear stabbed at Loki's gut. He spun on instinct, turning out of its path, his back to Odin's chest. His own weapon rose and he jabbed backward with its butt. Hard steel smashed into feeble bone. There was a crunch that raised the hairs on Loki's nape and a half-scream, half-gurgle bubbled from Odin's throat. 

The All-Father teetered and sagged, collapsing without ceremony to the ground.

Loki staggered away. He didn't look back, couldn't look back. Whatever he had just done, he was sure he couldn't bear the sight of it. His mouth tasted of bile; his hands shuddered. Stupid old man. He was weeping again. Screams and crashes echoed distantly. What was he doing? What was he looking for?

The ring. He'd dropped the ring. His eyes scoured the ground. The ring! Everything hung on it. 

A glitter at the foot of the throne caught his eye. He staggered to it and dropped, bleeding, to his knees, trembling fingers reaching out in relief. Then he froze. 

The fragile glass had cracked in two. 

He stared, disbelieving. It was broken. How could it be broken? His fingertips traced its contours. The neat split through the glass part of the circle did not vanish. 

Broken. 

He looked up at the Tesseract, sitting smug on its throne. It was within arm's length and yet forever out of reach. That vile magic. He could almost believe it had caused the ring to be destroyed itself. It preferred Thanos as its master. 

Through his shock he heard Thanos roaring. He turned his head. The battle had ended. Nothing more moved on the field aside from Thanos himself. The façade of the palace had tumbled into ruins. Bodies lay piled upon each other in profane disarray. He saw among them, in an image that seared itself into his mind, the inert face of Bruce Banner: in death at last free of his monster. 

All dead. All dead. He'd gambled all their lives and lost. 

"Still you spurn me?" Thanos howled at the heavens. "I am not deserving of such unloving treatment! Am I not Thanos? Am I not equal to Death? What more can you desire? Termagant! Vixen! Heartless harlot! I have slain immortality itself for you!"

Unrequited, he raged at the failure of his victory, weeping like a child. In his despair at being denied death, he dealt it out to those who still remained to suffer his violence: the Chitauri. He drew on the power of the Tesseract until it shone like another sun and poured it into them, burning them from the inside out in jets of blue flame. Far away, the ships, too, the Hives and the Cluster, strange and beautiful products of a far distant civilization, burned without heat on Thanos' altar. The cold, sick light of the Tesseract glazed the city of Asgard, and the courtyard where remained its only two living inhabitants most of all. 

"What must I do? What must I do?" Thanos wailed. He addressed Loki as if appealing to a judge. "Has any lover suffered as I have? What more can I do?"

Dumbfounded, Loki stared. Thanos did not kill him.

Thanos turned to look beyond the battle field, to where the portal still hung in the air in the wreck of the throne room. 

To where the portal opened on Earth and its unsuspecting billions. To a world undefended, its champions already slain. And beyond, to the other Nine Realms, whose might combined could not match that of vanquished Asgard. And beyond even them to other worlds, countless worlds that lived only because Thanos had not discovered them yet.

Thanos would never kill him. He'd set Thanos on the path of the Tesseract and made all this vain slaughter possible. Like a fool he had pointed Thanos towards his own home and so carved this fate for them all. Thanos wouldn't kill Loki; he would take Loki with him to world after world, galaxy after galaxy, everything crumbling beneath ultimate power bent to implacable will, beneath the reign of the Cosmic Cube. With each new subjugation Loki's guilt would multiply, from immeasurable to infinite to madness. He saw a future of unbearable horror laid out before him. He and his monster, together forever. 

He saw something move in the courtyard. No: someone. 

Jane Foster was picking her way among the fallen Chitauri, making straight for Thanos.

Loki lurched to his feet and froze in mid-shout. She didn't seem to see him. Her eyes were fixed on the Titan. She had a gun in her hand, pointed steady and unwavering at Thanos' head. There was no point, Loki wanted to scream, he'd broken the ring, he had failed, failed utterly. _Run, Jane._

It was too late. Thanos had seen her. The tidal waves of his tantrum crystallized into a raving laugh. He met her with, as always, no trace of fear. 

"The woman in the mirror," he said. His wolf's teeth shone in his purpled skin. He grinned at Loki. "So there remains something yet to take away. One more gift to give. How kind of her to come to me."

Jane fired, once, twice, thrice, Loki lost count. She emptied the weapon of its ammunition. The bullets sank into Thanos' flesh, tearing bloody craters into head, chest, abdomen, leg. For a blink of an eye the wounds existed; and in a blink of an eye, they were gone as if they had never been. 

Jane let out a cry of despair and frustration and hurled the gun at him. It bounced off the fragmentary armor, as harmless as the bullets. She remained facing him, weaponless. The terror writ on every line of her body struck a note deep in Loki's heart. She didn't run. She lifted her chin and stared her killer in the face. He loved her for her fear and he loved her for her courage. 

Light flooded his mind. The scene froze in time. Its details came together to form a new meaning. He understood what he had not understood before. Written on Jane's tear-streaked face, and on that of Thanos, he saw the answer he'd been too blind to seek. 

He knew why Thanos loved Death. He knew why Death spurned Thanos. And he knew how to change her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains: character deaths, violence


	30. To Court Death

The scene sprang back into motion. So did Loki. He swept up the broken coordinate ring from the ground, holding it so that his palm concealed the split.

"Thanos!" he cried. 

The glance Thanos shot him dripped contempt. The Titan was already turning back to his last remaining prey when Loki picked up the Tesseract.

That won him the Titan's attention again. He took slow, deliberate steps towards where Thanos and Jane watched him, motionless as pieces on a game board before the final move. The gash in his thigh burned, but the feeling was distant. The energy streaming from the Tesseract writhed and the portal jumped and shifted as he carried the cube. Shadows danced around them all. 

The final move belonged to Loki. He was about to sweep the board.

"What – are – you – doing?" Thanos growled. He stepped, once, in Loki's direction, the mad stars in his eyes fixed on the cube, Jane forgotten. 

Loki showed his teeth. "You've been so very generous, Thanos. I've given much thought to how I can repay you for the favor you've shown me. A most suitable idea has occurred to me."

"Foolish whelp! You imagine you can command the Tesseract? She answers to Thanos! I stripped you of your sorcery!"

"I didn't need sorcery to open a portal on Earth and I don't need it now. This machine," he said, holding up the coordinate ring to glimmer in the blue light, "this machine allows me to control where the portal opens. It's a human device and untouched by any magic. Even yours."

A chuckle rumbled through Thanos' torso. "What good do you think it will do you? Even if you had full control of the Cube, you would be unable to kill me. I am invincible! I am Thanos!"

"Oh, I have no intention of killing you," Loki said pleasantly. His head spun from loss of blood and sheer joy. "It's not death I'm going to give you. It's life. Do you know that when they die, the souls of the people of this realm pass to Hel, a dominion of your Mistress Death? There they remain for all eternity as her subjects. Unless, of course, someone were to let them out." The words rang from him like poetry. He spun the little shining circle in his bloodied hand and then hooked the ends of its flexible legs around the cube. The glass circle hovered just above the energy stream from the Tesseract. All he had to do was snap it down.

"This device will move the mouth of that portal from Earth to Hel. And all your sacrifices, all your beautiful gifts for Lady Death will come spilling out again. Will she ever forgive you, do you think, for taking back what is rightfully hers? Could any as lofty as she love such a miser, such a promise-breaker? Her ire will follow you forever. She will never love you; you will never be united with her. You will wander the stars alone for eternity!"

Thanos roared in denial and leapt for him. He flicked the ring into the stream of the Tesseract. Broken as it was, it did absolutely nothing. But that no longer mattered: his words had done their work. 

For Thanos' voice resonated with a new note, worming through the arrogance and cruelty like venom in the blood: fear. Long forgotten, but all the more potent in its sudden rebirth. Loki had found something that could make Thanos afraid – not death, but life. A life that went on for thousands, millions of years, terribly alone and lonely in an ever changing, ever alien universe, a life without mercy, a life that could not end. A life that Thanos had already lived to the point of madness. Life without death. No creature was meant to exist in such a form. 

Thanos checked in mid-stride, doubling over in sudden pain. His massive hands shook, clawing at his own body. "What is this?" he cried. "What is happening?"

Wounds opened in his body where there had been none a moment ago. Pain and physical weakness he had not experienced for millennia brought new fear, and the fear in turn dragged him further down into the morass of mortality. 

For it was this that Loki had understood. Thanos had been, in a way, right: Death, which embraced all beings, abhorred him. It was no sorcery or magic on the part of Thanos, but the loathing of Death herself that forced eternal life – truly eternal, not simply lengthy like that of Asgardians – upon him. He dared to love her instead of fearing her, he dared to style himself her equal when all creatures must bow in terror beneath her rule. He had set up his throne next to hers – _above_ hers – as if they were of a kind. Outraged, she had rejected this arrogance and denied him the one thing he desired: herself. 

Now, humbled at last by fear, he came to her in suitable habit – bleeding, on his knees – and she accepted him. 

Loki closed the distance between them. Terror pulled Thanos' face into unfamiliar lines. Blood trickled, spilled, gushed from the wounds Jane's bullets had made in him. A black bruise spread over the purple flesh of his thick neck. He rasped worse than ever, choking on blood and fear. The dimming stars in his eyes fixed on Loki. The heavy lips moved but no words escaped. 

Loki grasped his neck and leaned down. "You wanted death," he snarled into Thanos' ear. "So _die._ "

Slowly, the light faded from Thanos' eyes. In their last gleam Loki thought he saw reflected a tall figure rising from the throne behind him, robed and skeletal, raising a bony hand in their direction. Thanos' gaze looked past him as if riveted to this phantom. She had come for him at last. 

Loki jerked back. _Fear._ The eyes went dark; and Thanos fell forward, an empty and decrepit shell. 

Loki staggered back to his feet. He had not yet found his balance when a torrent of magic roared through him. The wrenching theft of his immortality reversed. Life and power drove into him. Strength coursed through his limbs. His heartbeat grew slower and more powerful and magic, blessed magic, tingled at his fingertips. 

The spell that had robbed Asgard of its immortality had died when Thanos' will had ceased to control the Tesseract. He was again a god.

The Tesseract's voice increased a hundredfold. It sang to him, urging him to take it, to master it if he dared. Ultimate power, his to direct. He did not hesitate; he plunged his thoughts into its blue depths. 

It fought him, as he remembered it doing on Earth when he'd first tried to control it. It buffeted him, it overwhelmed him. It was all places in the universe folded into one place: it could take him anywhere, it could extract power from all the fabric of existence at once. It magnified him to unimagined proportions. It could make him master of all of time and space, if he could control it.

He couldn't control it. He fought in despair against currents as deep as time, as powerful as the curvature of space. Thanos' craving for death had given him a strength of will so single-minded no other creature could understand it. His whole existence had consisted of one desire. But Loki consisted of many things, many desires contrary and unclear even to him. 

_Father._ To please. The Tesseract could make him strong, invincible. It could make him king of this realm or any other. _Thor._ To atone. The Tesseract could erase the memories of every person who knew what he had done. He could start afresh; he could be loved. _Jane._ To be free. The Tesseract could take him away from the home he'd poisoned against him to other worlds. He could go to Earth, he could go to anywhere in the universe, a stranger, a new man. 

Visions bloomed before his eyes. Fragments of reality blinked into being and out again as he thought of them. He grasped at them, but they fluttered away as soon as a different idea swam into his mind. He could take Jane to visit every star. He could master disciplines of magic unknown to anyone in the Realms. He could remake Asgard and Jotunheim so there was no enmity between them and he need not be half from one race and half from another. He could make himself a mortal again, or Jane a goddess. He could make himself Thor's equal. 

Each vision plucked at a part of his mind until he was being torn into countless pieces. His thoughts scattered like a tapestry unweaving. What did he want? What did he demand? He grew desperate. 

_You lack conviction._

Conviction. He focused on one thought. Why had he taken the Tesseract? He'd had a plan. His energy had been bent on that plan for day after brutal day. What was it? 

Asgard. Save Asgard. Undo what Thanos had done. 

_You lack –_

He made one thought his whole being. Undo what Thanos had done. Undo what Loki had done. Undo the past. He repeated it, drowned in it, lived it. 

_You –_

He was one desire only, desire embodied in living flesh. Undo. Restore. Heal. Redeem. He was no longer separate from his desire: it breathed with his lungs, saw with his eyes, sustained itself with his heart's blood. All his being was this single desire. 

The Tesseract yielded to him. It opened to his will and he saw within it the matrix of the universe and the pattern Thanos had inscribed in it. In the single moment the Tesseract gave him, he pulled every string Thanos had woven with the Tesseract's power and unraveled them all. 

_Undone._

His desire fulfilled, he lost the razor's edge of his concentration. The Tesseract bucked him off like an insect. His mind hurtled out of the matrix, the threads he'd spun together into a single rope untwisting, exploding back into a complex weave of knots and tangles and tapestry and loose ends. He fell, fell, fell, in bottomless time and space. 

He came to himself kneeling on the ground. The cube lay before him, dim and dormant. 

A hand touched his shoulder. "Loki?"

He looked up into Jane's brilliant eyes. "It's done," he said, laughing. "It's _done._ " Undone. 

The palace stood whole and immaculate, its glorious towers soaring to the sky. There was no portal and no battlefield of the dead. There were no gallows and no swinging corpse. Chitauri warriors and ships idled, alive and unenslaved, awakening confused to a new world. The summer stars shone innocent as lambs. 

He saw his mother stir, and Thor. Jane's touch vanished. She made a dash for his brother. He was on the verge of following when a thought struck him. 

He scrambled over to the third body. Odin lay unmoving, blood seeping from his smashed face. His chest didn't move. His one eye stared at the starry heavens, open. 

"No," Loki said. "No, no." Everything was meant to be unmade. He'd done it! 

Only the Tesseract hadn't killed Odin. Thanos hadn't killed Odin; Loki had. The Tesseract couldn't undo what it hadn't done.

His hands hovered over the still body. He could not quite believe it. Even though part of him had feared his father was dead long before he'd returned to Asgard, another part could not fathom that the All-Father no longer existed. The All-Father had always been. The All-Father was Asgard. To save Asgard was to save the All-Father: that was how it should be. 

The last words that had passed between them echoed bitter in his mind.

A familiar whistle split the air. He looked up to see Mjolnir fly into Thor's hand. Beautiful, golden Thor rose to his feet, his armor leaping into place about him. He shook himself like a lion throwing off sleep. Frigga, too, was rising to her feet, whole and alive, reaching out for her son. Fresh tears sprang to Loki's eyes. The weight of guilt and terror that had so crushed him for the past months dissolved to mist. He'd done it, he'd _done_ it. They lived. All but Odin lived. 

"Thor!" he said. 

Thor did not smile. His arm drew back. Sudden realization smote Loki.

"No, brother – " he said, crouched over the body of their father whom he had struck down.

"You are not my brother," Thor said, and threw the hammer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains: minor character death


	31. Come Too Far

They shut him up in the cells buried beneath the palace. Alone in this small, cold honeycomb, he imagined the weight of the interminable towers above pressing down on him: the weight of Asgard's anger. 

They bound him in the unbreakable chain Gleipnir, made of six impossible things and so impervious to matter. It was thin as a ribbon and became shackles and collar where it encircled his wrists and neck. No instrument he knew of could so much as make a dent in it. Worse, it bound his magic, too, so that he could not escape by sorcery. He could not recall it ever being used before. They wanted to be very sure that he couldn't escape. 

Gleipnir was a relic from Odin's vault. They had recovered the treasures, then, from wherever the Titan had hidden them. Asgard had all its might back and no one to wreak it on but Loki. 

The chain did not clink as he paced the length of his white-walled cell, examining the half-transparent golden barrier that separated him from the outside world. None of the other cells were occupied. He knew there were guards at either end of the corridor, but the sense of solitude was total. The lights dimmed during the night, yet he hardly noticed the passage of time. The wounds he'd taken healed in a day, but the pain inside him remained. 

Periodically he writhed against his bonds, trying to gain an inch of freedom, to extend a sliver of magic beyond them. He had only just got his power back, only just untangled himself from one snare – and here was another. He wanted to weep and tear at someone, perhaps himself, he wanted to scream and to beg and to explain himself and for once to have someone listen. He'd tried to tell Thor what had happened while they'd been dragging him down here, but all ears had been deaf. 

He was made, it seemed, to be despised. He grew tired. 

Eventually, he fell into a doze, sitting with his back against the side wall and his legs extended before him. His sleep was not deep; light dreams flickered before his fluttering eyelids, strangely muted dreams after he'd become accustomed to dreaming as a mortal. He did not dream of Thanos, but of Thor, his mother, Odin, Sif, Skadi, Bruce Banner, Phil Coulson, so many more faces. Their deaths repeated on a loop in his mind, ending always in the sickening crack of the staff against Odin's skull. His dreams worked to build a narrative out of the things he'd done, to make sense of what had befallen him; but they worked feebly, and he drifted in a landscape of pieces that didn't fit together, memories that seemed to belong to a host of different people. 

When Thor swam into focus on the other side of the barrier, Loki at first thought him another dream. His head was nodding and on one of his jerks to wakefulness, he found his brother gazing down at him through the shimmering haze. Thor was alone.

"So you've come," Loki murmured. "To talk? To accuse? At last you have me where you wanted me, brother. In a prison cell in Asgard. If I dreamed that you let me go, would it come true?"

"Let you go?" Thor said. His voice sounded quite real and not at all dream-like. It snapped Loki into full consciousness. "Even in a dream, could you believe that?"

He sighed. "I suppose not." Perhaps he ought not have the audacity to even dream of it. But he was hurt, and he couldn't help it. He'd battered himself to sand on the rocks of his past and received nothing but condemnation for it.

In a burst of movement, Thor was crouching before him. They gazed at each other through the diaphanous weave of the barrier. 

"Tell me why," Thor said. "By the soul of our mother, whom I _know_ you love, tell me why."

Now that the opportunity had presented itself, Loki found the right words refused to come. Why indeed? Because he'd had no other choice? Because a sacrifice was necessary to protect Asgard? Because once he'd started, he could not turn back, only go forward, only go deeper, only go through? 

Those had always been his reasons. _I did it for you. For Asgard._ He'd made such excuses to Thor in the past; he had wasted much breath defending the indefensible. What could he say now that would be something other than the same song? What could he say that Thor wouldn't simply dismiss as the familiar self-serving justifications? He could not say _it was different this time._

Had it been different this time? He thought he could claim that much. But he'd been wrong in the past. He could be wrong now, though he felt he was not; he _felt_ different.

"Well..." he said, "Would you believe me if I said my heart was in the right place?"

"Do not jest with me," Thor growled.

"I'm not."

Thor searched his face. "I will never understand you." He leaned an elbow on his knee and gestured towards Loki with one hand. "I saw you run Thanos through the heart. When I called for your help in direst need, you gave it. Yet you must have known a spear wouldn't kill him. Why rush to my aid?"

"Because I couldn't let you fight him alone. Because I couldn't let him kill Mother without standing in his way."

"A poor calculation. You must have expected him to kill you. You had nothing to gain."

"It was no calculation." 

"Sentiment, then?"

Loki's reply stuck in his throat. He had poisoned that word with mockery, he could hardly appeal to it now. After a silence he said, "Something like that."

"I wish I could believe you."

Loki leaned closer. "But you can't, can you? Not anymore. I can tell you I played along with Thanos to get near the Tesseract. To buy time until I could seize it. I can tell you I always intended to use it to destroy him and restore Asgard. But no matter how well I speak, you'll doubt me. Won't you?"

Thor stared him down. "And Father?" he said, his voice blurring. "What part of this sleight of hand required ending his life?"

Loki examined Thor's face. His brother's thoughts and feelings had been exposed to him since they were children, written like plain script all over those unguarded features, in his careless expressiveness and joyful swagger. Yet now Loki found reading them unexpectedly difficult. Thor had a new impenetrability and a new keenness. The feral look about him had faded already, save from his eyes, but he moved with greater control, as if he was carrying a brimming cup inside him that he feared to spill. Time with Thanos, as Loki knew, did not leave one unchanged. He experienced a resigned twinge of regret. 

He was not certain, now, what Thor was looking for. To goad a confession from him? An apology? An explanation for why he'd tried to save Mother but had killed Odin? Why he must have hated their father so much?

The truth was that there'd been no hatred in it. He'd acted too quickly for thought or calculation. He had sought to kill not Odin but the obstacle between him and the Tesseract. 

"He was in the way," Loki said. "If I'd let him stop me, you'd all be dead. You and so many more. No price was too high."

" _That_ is your epitaph for the All-Father?" Thor's voice rose. "For _our_ father? 'He was in the way'?"

"That's the truth, Thor. It isn't always glorious."

"You say it's the truth, Loki. But my heart says there was revenge in the swing of that staff."

 _Your twisted nature._ Even more than Thor, the All-Father had cast a shadow over his life as stifling as it was sheltering. Above all others it had been Odin who'd been the target of his resentment after his fall into the void. But that resentment had found no satisfaction in Odin's death. It had crumbled and blown away, and the shadow dissolved with it, leaving only emptiness. 

"No," he said. "I needed the Cube. We'd gambled everything on it. Thousands of lives. It was the only way to get them all back. Including yours."

Thor stood and paced slowly. "You tell me this tale in which you had nothing but noble intentions. You were forced against your own desire to guide the hand of Thanos in his slaughter, so great was his power. You were so overcome with feeling that you then risked this very power's wrath to try to save me and Mother. Nevertheless, he allowed you to live. You were forced by necessity only to kill Father. And then you took up the Tesseract and heroically restored Asgard to life."

"You are alive, aren't you? I could have left you all dead."

This was perhaps not the most diplomatic choice of words. Thor shot him a glare. "Here is another tale. You have no loyalty to anyone but yourself. When we arrived and found Thanos in power, you turned your coat and became his lackey. When you saw an opportunity to betray him, you did. When the spear failed, you persuaded him you were loyal after all. Then when you had another opportunity, you rid yourself of him and the All-Father both and took the Tesseract for yourself."

"And still didn't leave you for dead. It strikes me," Loki said, "that you could simply ask Jane which tale is true. She was there."

"I have," Thor said, without surprise. 

So. He had already heard the story. He'd come to compare it to Loki's. Nothing in his manner had given it away; this new Thor had learned subtlety. 

"She insists the first version is the true one," Thor continued.

Yet Thor had still come to question him. Harshly. 

"You don't believe her," Loki said, in exaggerated but not wholly feigned wonder.

Thor stopped. He gazed at the golden shimmer of the barrier, his jaw tight. "I don't think she is lying to me." He turned his head to look at Loki. "But her judgment has been... colored. She is eager to believe well of you."

"You mean she likes me?" He didn't suppress his smile. Thor's jaw clenched even tighter. Insight pricked Loki like a pin, drawing blood. "Ah. She told you everything, then."

Thor didn't bother to hide his anger, but he kept it under control. "Everything. It seems you've been working your poison on her for a long time. While I remained ignorant."

"You think I corrupted her? That she has no will of her own?"

"I think you manipulated her as you do everyone."

A silent room. Death narrowly missed. Her cheek burning against his. Her body alive in his arms, her body hot around him. Inside him, a secret weakness lurked that made him drop his guard, loosen his tongue. Thor thought he'd beguiled Jane out of spite. He'd wanted to, once. How many of his petty former desires must come to unwanted fruition? 

Perhaps he could salvage this one, still. Jane need not lose his brother's love on his account. 

"You're right, of course," he said. "I did manipulate her and I did poison her against you. It was always about you. Don't be too hard on her, brother, she's only a mortal. And you'll soon have your revenge against me."

Behind Thor's new stoicism flitted a shadow of hurt. The twin hurts Loki had inflicted: he had stolen away Odin and Jane, too. Not only her body, but her loyalty. How it must burn Thor to hear her plead with him on Loki's behalf. What remained now for Thor? No brother, no father, no beloved. Only Mother. And a mountain of new burdens. He could not even allow himself to be properly angry that Loki had taken Jane from him, for Loki's other crimes overshadowed this one by far and it would be ignoble to fixate on the smallest of them. 

"You did an ill thing when you ensnared Jane in your schemes," Thor said.

"I've done many ill things," Loki mused. He was tired. "So, my only witness is tarnished by association with me. I suppose you'll simply have to choose whichever version of the story you prefer."

"Even now you fish for my judgment of you," Thor said softly. Much keener indeed. 

"Your judgment has always mattered. Now more than ever. I dare say my life depends on it."

Thor came as close as the barrier permitted. His gaze was level and his voice pacific, with only a low resonance of anger breaking, now and then, to trouble its smooth surface. "I am to choose which brother I would have. The former knave who proved true to his people in the end and sacrificed everything, even his own hope of redemption, to save them? Or the opportunist whose loyalties twist in the wind, who would betray anything and anyone for his own skin?" 

He rested his hand against the barrier. It flared golden around his fingers, but it did not bend. "Which are you, Loki? Do even you know? I tell you I care not. I looked into your eyes when you stood by my side against Thanos and thought I saw your true heart then. I think so still. I have never doubted that you love me, Loki, even when you were trying to kill me. For others, love and hate are opposing forces; but in you, I see now that they are entwined like the warp and the weft. Perhaps both versions of the story are true."

He withdrew then, taking slow steps back as he spoke. "For myself, I would see you live no matter who you are or what you really did. But it is not only my judgment that matters now, Loki. I am no longer simply Thor, Odin's son. I am king of Asgard. Since its very creation Asgard has known only one ruler, one order. Now it has suffered the worst calamity in all its history – through your doing. And lost its only king – by your hand. And I must take his place and bring a new order and satisfy our people's hunger for justice."

"Ah," Loki said. "And if you let me live, you show your skittish new realm that you put personal feeling above public justice. How long will your throne remain secure then?" It was a great legacy Thor was tasked to uphold. Loki found that he did not envy him it. 

"This is not about my throne, but about my duty. The people vest the right to do justice in the king, and he must uphold it if he is to be worthy of that trust. The whole realm mourns Odin. Each of them watched you sentence them to death. They expect no less a punishment for you."

And Loki had expected nothing else. Begging for his life would only shame him and twist Thor into more knots. "Then give it to them," he said.

Thor's eyes darkened. "You agree? Just like that?"

"Do you think it more merciful to let me rot here for eternity? Even if I escaped, what is there for me but to wander the stars, rootless, until one of the many people I have offended decides to finish me off? No, Thor. In one stroke you can put an end to my miserable existence and let Asgard heal. You'll be doing everyone a favor."

He could see the sigh escape Thor's lips. "Harsh words, Loki."

Loki smiled. "At least they're honest."

"I believe you," Thor said. He looked away. "The next time I come will be the last. Fare you well, brother."

He went, and Loki watched him go. He did not expect Thor to look back; but he did, once, just before he was out of sight, and his face was finally transparent with grief.

"And good fortune," Loki finished into the silence. He laughed in an ugly burst; tears pricked his cheeks. His death sentence at last. It would not be Thanos, but Thor. He did not mind as much as he would have a few months ago. Still, he had no particular wish to die. The harsh words had been calculated to soothe. They were not, after all, honest.

So he waited. When night fell, the light in his cell dimmed with the sun; when day broke, it brightened again. Cycle followed cycle, and still he waited. Were they giving Odin's body to the fire and the ocean? How long would they mourn until they thought it decent to punish Odin's murderer, Ragnarok's herald? Would they bury him, too, in the salty waves? Somehow he doubted it.

He waited for a long time, and his thoughts heaved like a ship on the drunken sea: from acceptance and fortitude in the daytime to terror and regret in the night. The nights felt endless and the days short, so he was wracked accordingly. He wished for the wait to be over and for it to go on forever; he wished for Thor to swing the axe and for Thor to smuggle him out and damn the consequences. 

So many days passed that he thought she wouldn't come. In the end, of course, she did.

It was night, and he'd been unable to rest. He was sitting with his back to the wall again, his forehead resting on one drawn-up knee. But he was not asleep, and when a pale light appeared in the darkness, he knew at once what it meant.

"Hello, Jane," he said, raising his head. "Come to loose me from my chains again?"

"Yes," she said, and swooped down to kneel before him. The teleporter dangled outside her shirt, enveloping them in the small sphere of its glow. Her hands hovered over the silver bands of Gleipnir where they encircled his wrists. "What is this? How do I get it off?"

"You can't. It's unbreakable."

She looked around. "Why haven't you just walked out of here?"

"The chain suppresses my magic. And my strength."

She chewed a lip. "I figured something like that must've happened." She traced Gleipnir's delicate links with her fingertips. "It looks so wimpy." Her hand closed around it and she tugged; but of course, it budged not at all. She stilled and gazed at him.

"You look like hell."

"So do you."

She had a pinched, anxious air: her hair was limp and unruly and the faint light of the teleporter cast her eyes into deep shadows. Her fingers tapped the chain, absent and nervous. He remembered the gesture from the nights when she had visited him in the flying fortress on Earth; her hands had fidgeted just so, her hair had fallen over her cheek just so. Yet how different she looked to him in every respect. The contours of her face had a familiarity that burnt him to the quick: the frown line between her brows, the long sweep of her lashes, the pale freckle over her lip. He had nearly crushed her throat once; now he watched it move with her breath and knew time was racing away with the seconds of her mortal life, and was sorry to his bones for it.

"What are they going to do to you?" she said.

"Thor didn't tell you?"

"He did. I just wanted to know if he'd told you." She gave a wry laugh. "I never believed you, you know, when you said you'd be executed back in Asgard. I just assumed you were lying."

"I was. Then."

She grew sober. "You did it, though. You saved everyone. You saved Thor." Her eyes were shining.

"Do you think they'll throw me a parade before they kill me? You told Thor everything."

She didn't miss the slight emphasis on the final word. Her gaze skittered away from his and she twisted her hands together in her lap. "Yep." Her lips popped on the 'p.' "He... could've taken it better. He told me to leave."

"Leave?"

"Leave Asgard. Leave him."

"Ah." He paused. He was going to die; he might as well ask. "You truly love him."

"Yes," she said, meeting his eyes. She gave no sign of wanting to qualify or add anything else. In fact, she had grown quite calm. An air of determination radiated from her. She had not tried to free him or asked anymore questions about Gleipnir. It occurred to him that perhaps it was more convenient for her this way. _Every time I'm with you, I have to do something terrible._

It seemed his death would be a favor to absolutely everyone.

"Well, take it from me," he said with false solicitude. "Thor can be very forgiving. He'll come around."

She looked over her shoulder, towards the door at the end of the corridor, and gave a half-smile. "No," she said with certainty, turning back to him. "He won't. I'm about to burn my bridges."

He didn't understand. "What?"

The door opened, and light split the darkness of the corridor between the cells. 

Tension snapped his back straight. "They're coming. Jane – "

He could not tear his eyes from hers. For a moment the space between them was alive with his desire to touch her. He was going to die. The space between them was a few spans of his hand; the space between them was a yawning abyss forged by all the deaths he'd caused, by Erik Selvig's ravaged mind, by the Destroyer breaking Thor's spine, by his own hand bruising Jane's throat. Too wide, too far, too late. He had so many words but no time to say them. 

She leaped the abyss without hesitation. Her fingers brushed his cheek, tangled in his hair. 

"I'm bad at goodbyes," she said. "Stop getting tied up so much."

She kissed him fiercely. He gasped in surprise. Her mouth electrified him, filled him with light and heat. He leaned into the kiss desperately, drinking her touch down like a life-giving draught. His bound hands rose, fumbling in the dark; his fingertips found skin and slid over the hollow of her throat. Her intake of breath dazed him. 

She curled her hands around his and thrust a small, hard object into his palm. Then she tore herself away and vanished. 

His sudden solitude was still sinking in when Thor and a detachment of guards arrived before his cell. He closed his hands over the object Jane had given him, folding them before him so that it was well hidden. It felt cool and smooth, like metal. He couldn't look at it without revealing it to his executioners. 

"An honor guard? I'm flattered," he said to conceal his discomposure. "You really shouldn't have."

The barrier fizzed and glittered and died. "Bring him," Thor said. 

Loki pushed himself to his feet. Things began to happen quickly, far too quickly. He was surrounded and marched out of the cell and down the corridor. It was still night, but the lights in the palace burned. He saw no one but the guards. Some of them were known to him, but he was hardly aware of them. It was Thor he watched; or rather Thor's back, swathed in red and silver and sternness before him. 

Their strides devoured the length of the palace. They were out of the lower levels. They were in the east wing. They left the east wing and came to the antechamber. 

"This is all so furtive," he said. "Are you sure you know what you're doing? People like a good spectacle. You should've let me plan it."

Speech died on his tongue as they left the antechamber. The whole courtyard before the palace was seething with people. The crowd squeezed into every crevice and spilled out into the city beyond. Thousands of floating torches lit the upturned faces rapt with bloody desire. At their appearance an unlovely murmur rumbled. 

A space remained clear before them. A passage through the crowd led to the empty gallows of Thanos. The noose dangled black. 

And now he understood. He was to die as they had died: alone in the dark, before an eager audience. Blood for blood and blow for blow, Asgard would give back what it had received. 

His senses felt swaddled in wool. He moved as if through water – heavy, muted, hazy – as his captors compelled him forward. They progressed through a gauntlet of sneering faces and hostile clamor. He recognized each man and woman; he could recall precisely what death he had chosen for each of them. Their hatred buffeted him. He fought to stay on his feet under its weight. 

They stopped. The shadow of the gallows stretched before them, its dark finger laid upon the crowd. Thor gave a speech which Loki did not hear. He clenched his fists hard, trying to force himself back to reality. A sharp corner dug into the flesh between his thumb and forefinger. The metal object pushed itself back to his awareness. 

He focused all his attention on it, this last secret Jane had given him. He turned it in his palm. It had grown warmer in his hands. It had eight sides. 

Eight sides. _Eight sides_. Loki laughed aloud and did not care that the whole world saw. The voice of the crowd swelled to a frenzy. They thought he laughed at them, laughed in the face of death. He was pushed forward again. Thor had finished his speech. 

She had made him a teleporter. She'd been so late because she'd been working – creating – building him a teleporter. He'd given her his probability equation that night on Earth in a moment of boasting and she'd saved his life with it. Gleipnir bound his magic and his strength, but it had no effect on an artifact of science. He was free. 

He was on the wooden platform. Thor stood before him. Asgard and its malcontents fanned out beyond, their tenuous order disintegrating: they bellowed and pushed and spat at him. Their eyes shone with living hatred in the torchlight. Anger and vengefulness marred the dignity every soul born of Asgard carried within. Was he responsible for that, too? Had he turned them into these distorted versions of themselves?

No. He thought he'd let them shoulder the guilt for that one. 

"I'm sorry," Thor said, and placed the noose tight around his neck. "Farewell." Beneath his kingly poise, he looked stricken. 

"I intend to," Loki said, and laughed at Thor's look of shock. 

He played his final trick. He found one of the long buttons on the teleporter's eight sides, and pressed it, and took a defiant step forward. At the same moment, the wooden platform beneath him gave way and the noose bit into his neck. Thor, the gallows, the crowd, the stars – spun and shattered into fragments. The world flickered before his eyes.


	32. Conviction

The world flickered and spun, but the noose did not ease its lethal grip on Loki's throat. It had plucked him from the ground in mid-step and now, without a solid footing, he could not find a path. Instead of a path, fate gave him variations on a theme, just as it had long ago when he'd teleported himself out of a serpent's coils into the depths of the earth. Only this time there was no All-Father to save him. 

The noose held him fast, shifting as the world shifted around him. It was rope, leather, metal, stone; it was hands closing off his breath, claws, feelers, hands again, other things living he had not the presence of mind to name. He was in a cave, a field, underwater, a public square, someone's bed, under the stars and under a pitiless sun and in the flawless dark. For fragments of seconds he inhabited other lives – no, other deaths. He tasted mortality a hundred times. The universe meted out to him in full the death he had left in his wake. 

With every flicker the noose tightened a hairsbreadth, and as much as he kicked and clawed and struggled, the universe did not relinquish its grip on his throat. He fled through a thousand worlds and his punishment fled with him. He found no escape. Between the onslaught of sensation and the battle to suck in air, thought fragmented: he was instinct, feeling, body, knowing nothing but the body's thirst for life. The harder he fought the tighter the noose drew. 

The pain of trying to breathe became more real than a thousand worlds. The darkness that lurks under eyelids leaked from its confines and bled into his vision. All the worlds he passed through grew shadowy, merging one into the other until nothing remained but the purest black. 

His breath stopped. His heart pumped impoverished blood, each beat slower than the one before. He lived still, for gods did not die easy, but his time was measured.

He hung suspended in a lightless nowhere. He had passed beyond worlds to the space in between. 

A sliver of light flashed into being. It split, branching into two, and the branches in turn forked, again and again. A tree of light grew around him, a tree of lightning whose boughs were all the paths that fate conceived: every flip of a coin, every crossroads, every choice made or not made. Its branches reached out for the infinite. 

Yggdrasil, the World Tree, Loki named it in his agony. Where all possibilities existed at once, where fate waited for its final weaving, everywhere and nowhere. He had tried to elude his sentence in vain; here, where every potential future was manifest, he was still dying, still suffocating in the noose, and all of existence was his gallows. He had been judged. 

He was not alone. Three figures condensed out of the void. They were the blackness personified, the fertile space from which possibility erupted. They took the shape of three maidens, robed and hooded in night. He knew them: the Norns, the fate-spinners, the doom-weavers. Urdr, Verdandi, and Skuld; past, present, and future.

 _Loki_ , they said, in a voice that was many voices, all voices.

He could no more answer than breathe. 

They spoke each of his names in a different voice. Some he recognized and others he did not. 

_Loki. Laufeyson. Farbautison. Odinson. Friggason. Thorsbrodir. Janesvass. Silvertongue. Lie-smith. Mind-tester. Mischief-maker. Cunning-wise. Hair-thief. Arm-burden. The sly god. The bound god. Puny god. Trickster. Adversary. A full-tilt diva. Would-be king. Scourge of Jotunheim. Invader of Earth. Betrayer of Asgard. Monster. Boy. Bringer of Ragnarok. Odin's bane. Thanos' bane. Savior of Asgard. Savior of Midgard. Savior of Jotunheim. Savior of the Nine Realms._

They called him to account. But they did not give him his own voice back and without it he could weave no words, bring no defense. Tell no lies. His last power was denied him. He waited for their retribution or their mercy. 

Dream-like, they laid hands on him, each in her turn. Each of them showed him three true things. Nine visions all together they gave him, each of them perfect in its conjuring of life. 

First Skuld, the future, lent him her vision. 

He saw himself fighting Heimdall, black against gold, spear against broadsword. Their blades found flesh at the same moment, and they slew each other while the land beneath their feet, burning, sank into a rough-backed sea. He knew this was true death. He did not recognize the place. 

He saw a well of deep blue driven into a ridge of rocks in a misty wood. He knew that the water reached down beyond imagination, and that any who drank from it would be changed forever. Someone was with him, but before he could turn to look, the vision fled and a new one took its place. 

He saw the throne of Asgard, and on it sat a tall man more beautiful than any he had ever seen. The king wore a crown of leaves and white berries like pearls. He did not recognize the man. The vision faded. 

Skuld withdrew. Distantly, Loki's body protested. Air, he needed air; in this void, with less than half his strength, his flesh could not endure long without it. But the warning felt distant. His mind was crowded with color, beset with insight. 

Next Verdandi, the present, showed him what was. 

He saw Thor, and the sight made his tiring heart leap. Thor, every inch the king, stood before the Bifrost and greeted a delegation of jotuns. Behind him two Chitauri waited. The frost giants stepped from the rainbow bridge and Thor smiled and held out his hand in welcome. The vision faded into blackness and from the blackness a seed of a new image grew until it filled all his inner sight.

Jane, straight-backed, faced a crowd in a large hall of unassuming Midgard design. A great gold medallion ornamented the dais on which she stood. A man crossed to meet her and placed into her hands a small medal that was the very replica of this sole ornament. A smile broke out on her face, and he loved this smile more than any other. 

This vision, too, abandoned him, and one more took its place. He saw the city of New York and the garden at the heart of it. Work was proceeding there at a rapid pace: a structure rose, domed and gleaming. He recognized it to be a Bifrost. Midgard was no longer a backwater. Time had marched forward while he whiled away in nowhere. 

Verdandi left him. The warning from his body was now a remote scream, forcing its way through the visions into his awareness. But he could not escape, though he struggled again, writhing with what strength he had left. For last came the one he feared most to see: Urdr, his past, his weird, the fate that he had made for himself. _No_ , a word formed in his mind, the only word he could recall. 

Indifferent to his voiceless pleas, Urdr showed him what he had chosen. 

He saw himself with Thanos, who held the scepter with its gem that whispered commands into the minds of others. He coveted its power, _any_ power, for he was alone and the desire for vengeance burned within him. So when Thanos told him he was free to leave or free to bargain, he bargained. Information for power. Information about the Tesseract, about the Nine Realms, about Asgard, for the scepter and an army. In his mind he howled at his past self for a fool, not realizing how little he was receiving, not realizing how much he was giving and how violently it would ripple through time. 

Next he saw himself, hanging over the abyss, the Bifrost crackling far below him and his hand clinging precariously to Gungnir. Thor nigh-wept, begging him to hold on, but he saw his own face and the mutinous petulance there. He saw his own fingers let go of the staff, and it was never Thor who had cast him into the abyss, Thor had never tried to kill him, it been only Loki who had tried to kill a brother, Loki who had caused his own fall, Loki who had set in motion all this terrible drama from its inception. Thor had never let him go; Thor had never given up on him. Loki's body and his mind screamed together.

The last vision took him far, far back in time, and he fought not to see it. But Urdr was merciless. The mist of the years parted and he saw a battlefield, deserted. Blood of multiple races stained a frozen, rocky terrain. Amidst the death lay a new life, a child – but its life, too, was to be short, for it had been exposed on this inhospitable waste to perish. As the vision pulled him closer, it was obvious why: the child, though of the giant race, was tiny, weak, and stunted. 

Yet it was not quite abandoned. Odin the All-Father, already old but still hale, remained on the field he had won. He picked up the child with gentle hands, though the cold of its skin burned them. And the baby in turn quieted, unperturbed by the ghastly wound its rescuer had suffered: an eye gouged from his face, leaving a gaping hollow. As Loki watched, the child's skin began to change, azure to pale, ridged to smooth, freezing to warm, and its eyes faded from frost giant red to a gentler Asgardian blue. But it was not the man who worked this magic. Odin cast no illusion, no spell of any kind. The baby itself, entranced by the new being that had come into its world, transformed itself into an image of its rescuer and became, not just in appearance but in its blood and bone and heart, Asgardian. _A shapechanger._ Tears dried, and the child Loki smiled up at the father he had recreated himself to imitate. Odin smiled back with a vast tenderness. 

This last vision pierced him to the heart. Even as it faded, he struggled harder than ever against death, against fate, against what he had wrought and what others had wrought for him. Slippery blood ran from his neck; the noose had cut skin. The Norns ringed him and Yggdrasil's infinite branchings flickered like a cage around him. They did not let him go. 

_What do you want from me?_ , he screamed in his mind.

They did not answer. Panic overwhelmed him. Was he to die now, knowing all this? Was there no purpose to any of it? Was there no purpose to him? The darkness was in his head, his heart, his blood. His mind was drowning. The Norns said nothing. 

He fled from them into the darkness, into himself, deeper than he had ever gone, into the core of his being, a depth that even Gleipnir could not bind. Beyond old memories and old hurts he burrowed again into the child he had been. He found there the knowledge, long and desperately suppressed, of his true nature. He was unblinded. He grasped that knowledge, and became one with it once more, and he _changed._

His body rippled and reshaped itself, thinning, limbs fusing, scales growing from his skin. He shifted, he changed, he sought a new form to free him. His bonds grew slack, and he slipped, a snake from its skin, out of the noose and the chains that held him. Twisting, he fell through the in-between where Yggdrasil grew and left the tree and its guardians behind him. 

He fell and fell for the second time through an endless abyss, shifting, changing, becoming...

... until he landed, hard, on the earth. He lay for a moment with his stinging cheek pressed to the smooth surface beneath him, breathing the cool air. It tasted and smelled better than anything he could remember, fresh with life and motion. He turned his forehead to the ground and sucked breath into his aching lungs. He had arms and legs and his own body again.

He sprawled there in a daze for some time until he realized he was getting wet. It was raining; drops fell on his outstretched hands. He pulled himself to his knees and looked around him.

He was in the courtyard before the palace of Asgard. It was night, and deserted, and a storm murmured overhead, shedding warm spring rain on the city. He knelt under a tree. It was a young tree with fresh green leaves, but golden apples already hung from its limbs. He peered into its branches and, startled, caught a gleam of silver: the noose rested dark among the leaves and from it dangled the chain of Gleipnir. Empty.

This was Thanos' gallows, Loki's gallows. Idunn's gallows. She had sung it into an instrument of life again and they had left it to grow here in the courtyard. A memorial. 

Loki got to his feet. He looked down at his hands. With only a small effort of will, he _shifted_ them. They became blue and ridged, then white and smooth again. He felt certain that he could change them and all of himself into many other shapes. Perhaps anything he chose. And all of those shapes would be Loki. He'd never been false; this body had never been a lie. It was only one aspect of him. 

He looked up at the sky. Black clouds veiled and unveiled the stars. Balmy raindrops fell on his cheeks. He found he was smiling. Within him all was calm and still. A hush reigned inside him where once there had been many voices, all contradictory. He knew himself.

So. He was in Asgard. It had been summer when he left and now it was spring. Someone was doing a poor job of managing the weather. He suspected he could guess who. 

All his magic had returned to him. He fashioned a spell of invisibility and hid himself from all eyes. Then he went into the palace. 

The throne room was empty, but the halls bustled with life. Servants ran to and fro and there were warriors, as well, crowding the halls, but they were merry rather than belligerent: it was a time of celebration, not war. Water dripped from Loki's clothes onto the floor and he dried it, swiftly, with a spell and followed the flow of people deeper into the palace. 

He knew every passage and corner, so he soon realized the activity was concentrated around the banquet hall in the east wing. He slipped unseen through its great doors in the wake of two servants bearing a great platter of meat.

This was where he had tricked his brother into that ill-fated expedition to Jotunheim. A long table filled the room. On the far side, steps rose to a portico that looked out over the city. Speckles of rain blew past the bright lamps floating between the columns, but the assembled company paid no attention. They were fully engrossed in the feast. 

In the center of one long end of the table, across from the doors, sat Thor. He gleamed in red and silver, jesting with his companions around him and calling for more ale. The whole spirit of the room, its love and admiration, focused on him. He showed no sign of sorrow or bitterness. One might have thought him entirely untroubled, were it not for the storm roiling outside. A king must keep a brave face, so the clouds and the wind and the rain churning above were where Thor had poured his grief and his pain. 

Thor's eyes passed over him without remarking him. Loki moved, step by silent step, around the table. The guests feasted on food and company, but he feasted, too: his eyes drank them in, alive and beautiful and joyful as they were. Sif he saw, and Hogun laughing – _laughing_ – at a joke she'd made. Volstagg's wife, Hildegund, and his daughter, Gudrun, were testing the strength of their arms against one another. Idunn was there and next to her Frigga – his steps slowed, his eyes stung with salt. His mother's cheeks glowed with good health and drink and yet she was, as ever, unmistakably a queen. Even more so, perhaps, than Thor was king.

Loki came around the end of the table and to his brother's seat. It was lavish, with intricate scrollwork on its arms, and the only one of its kind in the room. It was then he realized that someone was missing. Jane was not here. Mother sat at Thor's right hand and the captain of the palace guards at his left. 

He had not, then, allowed her back to Asgard. Or she had not wished to come. Stubborn human, stubborn god. Loki could have laughed. He was sorry for them, but mischief sparked in him. So Thor had left Jane alone on Earth? She must be truly bored by now. But Loki would wager that something would come along to stir the pot soon enough. 

His smiled faded as he watched the feasters call for a toast to their king. He stood still, letting the light and joy of the feast wash over him. He could feel the warmth, but he could not join in. He was forever outside the circle. None would ever accept him back. He could not stay here.

He had one more thing to do. 

Mjolnir rested on the ground by Thor's side. Loki crept closer. His hand hovered over its haft, but he made no move to take it. The hammer was Thor's burden and Thor's measure. No other could bear it or be worthy of it any more than they could be Thor himself. And he had no need to be Thor, not any longer.

He had another design. He wove a tiny spell and looped it around Mjolnir's handle. The next time Thor picked up his hammer, he would hear Loki's voice speaking in his mind. _For how I have wronged you, brother, I am truly sorry. Farewell._ He wished he could say it to Thor's face, but this would have to do. 

He was just lifting his fingers when Thor turned his head. Those bright blue eyes he knew too well searched the air, and the new keenness was in them again. A line appeared between Thor's brows. 

"Mother," he said in an undertone, "do you perceive anything amiss?"

Frigga leaned over and replied in the same hushed voice. "I felt cold just now. The wind, I thought. What do you sense?"

They put their heads together, Thor's sunny gold and Frigga's pale brown. They were aglow with drink and yet sharp-minded still, mother and son so different in appearance but identical in nobility. He saw how they clove together by instinct, without thought. They were the only two left. The remnant of his family. They were but the span of hands away. He could reach out and touch her, his mother. He found his hand had half-risen without his knowledge and he froze. He dared not move for fear a footfall or rustle of cloth would give him away. 

"The air had a familiar feel," Thor said. "A ghost, perhaps."

Frigga laid light fingers on his arm and said, "You miss him still." Her voice caught, almost imperceptibly. 

"All of them. But at least I know what happened to the others. Loki... even his death is a riddle."

Frigga took a slow breath. "A long time has passed."

"Without word from anywhere in the Nine Realms. I know. It's time to let go. It would be easier, I think, if I could mourn him properly."

Frigga took a flagon from the table and poured sweet mead into Thor's drinking bowl and her own. "Drink with me," she said. 

"Gladly." Thor's smile pierced the gloom shadowing his expression.

" _Minni_ ," Frigga said, raising her bowl.

"Remembrance," Thor replied. 

They drank.

Loki backed away with infinite care. When he reached the nearest column, he leaned against it, pressing his palms to its cool surface. He watched his mother and his brother for a long moment, but they returned to the banquet and became merry again. Still, he was not forgotten. He waited until his heartbeat slowed and the ache in his throat eased. 

He did not go through the palace again, but slipped out the portico into the city. Between the banquet and the rainy night, not many were afoot. He wandered, his legs guiding him along well-known paths and to favorite haunts. A strange feeling perplexed him. He mulled over it, not knowing what to name it. He was passing through the Heroes' Gallery, the statues of ancestors looking down on him, when it came to him.

Freedom. He was free. Nothing bound him or held him. Neither chains of steel nor of magic obstructed him, nor obligation nor the past itself. No one hunted him. No one needed saving. There was no one he must impress or manipulate or flee. He was free to choose his next path, and nothing forced his hand.

His heart felt light. When he came out of the gallery, he spun, laughing into the blustery night. He was giddy as if he'd been the one feasting on mead. What should he do? Where should he go? What did he desire? All his old desires and spurs had fallen away. He could replace them with whatever he chose.

No. Not _all_ the old desires were gone. There was one more loose end. One more person to see.

He took the straight road out of the city, purposeful now. When he came to the rainbow bridge, he followed it over the ocean. Even from halfway across, he could see the dome rising ahead of him: the Bifrost rebuilt. The bridge was no longer broken. Asgard had retaken its place among the Realms. 

He slowed before the entrance. The Bifrost was not unguarded. Heimdall, who loved solitude, waited there even on a night like this. 

Loki considered. He could slip away unseen. For a while yet, his return could remain a secret. Not that Heimdall was especially talkative. But no doubt the news would get out. Thor might leave him be, but not every warrior in Asgard would be content to have Odin's slayer wandering free. He would soon have glory-hunters on his trail. The thought was not especially alarming. He doubted anyone here could be a real threat to him now. After all, he could become anyone. He no longer needed illusions, which could be shattered. He could hide in the form of an elf or a snake or a bee or... a human. He could not be found unless he wished it. 

And then there was the vision he'd had of the man with the crown of leaves sitting on the throne. Someone was coming. Someone who would be trouble for Thor. He didn't know when, but it had been the last of the three apparitions and therefore, he thought, the one that would come to pass soonest. If a challenger came to usurp Thor's throne, Loki intended to stand in his way. And with the knowledge he possessed, he could search for this presumptive king before those events came to pass. 

The irony nearly made him laugh aloud.

His mind ranged far ahead. It might be useful to be known. It might be useful to have a reputation. Let the Realms know that Loki was still a power, that Loki had brought Asgard to its knees and returned from the dead to tell the tale; then he could disappear, and watch, and wait. For though _skuld_ meant the future, it also meant _debt_. His was great. He had much to repay; to Thor more than anyone. 

He had gone too far into the darkness to ever be a hero. But it was not heroism that had defeated Thanos: it was fear. Loki could do fear. He had used his own tools to save Asgard and he could use them again. He knew what he was: he named himself chaos and trickery and lies, and above all he was change. But he was free to decide how to use his gifts. He would use them to balance his ledger. 

He did not deliberate further, but unveiled himself. Heimdall started, springing to attention.

"Loki!" he exclaimed in his deep voice. "You live!" He rasped his blade out of its scabbard.

"Be at ease, gatekeeper," Loki said. "This is not the day we slay each other."

Heimdall did not relax. His golden eyes shone with a steady light. "How? I searched for you, to be sure you were dead. I found nothing!"

"Your senses were never keen enough to catch me."

Heimdall bristled, but he did not attack. Instead he hesitated, sword raised. 

He was, Loki realized, if not afraid, then at least cautious. Heimdall had always been contemptuous of Loki the god of tricks and lies, who preferred mischief to battle. But Loki was no longer a mere god of tricks. He was a god of evil: fratricide, patricide, genocide twice over could be laid at his feet. He was Loki Realm-breaker, corrupt beyond salvation. He had slain the greatest powers in the known universe. He balked at nothing and he had powers Heimdall did not know. 

The illusion of Loki he had created for Thanos lived still, and it had grown to proportions as immense as those of Thanos himself. He put it on like a mask. Yes, Heimdall was afraid.

"Why do you reveal yourself?" Heimdall demanded. 

"I have a message for your king," Loki said with an easy smiile. "Tell him his throne is in danger, and perhaps his kingdom, too."

"From you, King-killer? Is your appetite for destruction still not satisfied?"

"Now that's no good. If it were me, why would I warn you?"

"For reasons of your own, no doubt. I will not allow you to pass."

"I need no permission from you." He drew the darkness around him and let his voice ring out. "Tell Thor a challenger comes. Tell him you have seen me and I told you so. Tell him to gird himself and make Asgard fast. I have no intention of fighting you today. Will you pass on my message?"

Heimdall wavered. Loki gathered his magic, plucking at the unseen lines of force that guided the fates of mortals and gods. Where to? To Earth. For one last glimpse, before he began his search for Thor's unknown future challenger. 

"Tell him one more thing," he said as Heimdall tensed to leap at him. "Tell him if he doesn't want that woman of his – "

Heimdall rushed at him, blade slicing the air. He spun the dice and let luck forge him a path. Heimdall, the sword, the Bifrost, Asgard vanished into his past. He walked through worlds, alone, reborn, filled with new purpose. 

"Maybe I'll pay her a visit myself," he said, scattering each word to a different star.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who waited so long to see this story finished. I hope it all held together and entertained you well. Coming back to it was difficult, but I knew I couldn't leave it incomplete and I'm so happy and relieved I finally managed to pull it together. Writing this story has stretched my abilities to the limit and I've learned a huge amount along the way.
> 
> To the people who sent me messages during the last two years: thank you very much, they meant a lot to me and I appreciated them even if I didn't respond. You're kind folk.
> 
> I'm writing a sequel, but this time I'm going to finish the whole thing before posting. ;)
> 
> And thanks to A for always listening.


End file.
